THE  SINS  OF 
THE  FATHERS 


MARY E  HYDE 


JiU 


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V    01XX/VKVOLAJL\      ^ 
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THE  SINS 
OF  THE  FATHERS 


BY 
MARY  E.  HYDE 


BOSTON 

SHERMAN,  FRENCH  <&•  COMPANY 
1914 


Ill  I    '1O 


•1(1  /ll    .H   Y >!/.!/. 


COPYRIGHT,  1914 
SHERMAN,  FRENCH  &>  COMPANY 


TO   THE    MEMORY  OF  MY   SON 
FREDERICK  JOSEPH  HYDE 

WHO  PASSED  INTO  HIS  ETERNAL  REST 

NOVEMBER  TWENTY-EIGHTH.  NINETEEN  HUNDRED  ONE 

IN  THE  TWENTIETH  YEAR  OF  HIS    AGE 

THIS  VOLUME  IS  LOVINGLY  DEDICATED 


CONTENTS 

IHAPTEB  PAGE 

I  THE  HEIR  OF  COLE  &  COMPANY  .      .        1 

II     FATHER  AND  SON 28 

III  CROSS  WINDS     .      .      .    ,5,,..^    .  i . .      88 

IV  THE  MYSTERIOUS  SHOT      ....      55 

V  THE   ARREST      .      .      *.itt$>    ...      71 

VI  AN   UNEXPECTED   CALL     >..,  ».<    .      .      89 

VII  NELL  STANTON       :.j,.^4«l.  .<^|    .  ! .< .*  108 

VIII     THE  TRIAL 123 

IX  ROBERT  TAKES  UP  His  BURDEN     .      .    134 

X     DICK  GETS  A  CHANCE 147 

XI  DR.  ST.  JOHN  DECIDES  TO  STAY    .      .165 

XII  THE  DOCTOR  HAS  A  PATIENT  THRUST 

UPON   HIM 181 

XIII  A   PLEASANT   HOUR 204 

XIV  RUTH  MEETS  DR.  CRAIG    .      .      .      .215 
XV     RUTH'S  CONQUEST 229 

XVI  THE  HARVEST  FESTIVAL     ....    245 
XVII  ROBERT  MAKES  A  PACT  WITH  THE  DE- 
TECTIVE      269 

XVIII  THE  STRIKE       .......   289 

XIX  MARK  TO  THE  RESCUE  .                         .   304 


CHAPTEB  PAGE 

XX  ROBERT  RECEIVES  A  CALL  FROM  NELL 

STANTON 819 

XXI  THE  MYSTERY  is  SOLVED    ....  341 

XXII  NELL  STANTON'S  LAST  SACRIFICE      .  360 

XXIII  GRANDMA  BENT'S  CALL     ....  373 

XXIV  THE   ARREST      .      ." 391 

XXV     NEW  SCENES 414 

XXVI  JETHRO'S  STORY      .     V^'i    '  .      .  !    .  429 

XXVII  JETHRO'S   STORY    (Continued)       .      .  452 

XXVIII  JETHRO'S  STORY  (Concluded)        .      .  468 

XXIX  THE  MAN  WITH  THE  CANDLE  .      .      .  491 

XXX     ANOTHER   SURPRISE 510 

XXXI     RUTH'S  RETURN 530 

XXXII  THE  DENOUNCEMENT                           .  549 


THE  SINS  OF  THE  FATHERS 


CHAPTER  I 
THE  HEIR  OF  COLE  &  COMPANY 

The  shrill  whistle  of  Cole  &  Company's  foundry 
had  screeched  forth  its  regular  Saturday  after- 
noon's respite  from  toil.  The  great  wooden  doors 
and  gates  had  been  swung  open;  and  a  throng  of 
hurrying  operatives  were  jostling  each  other  in 
their  eagerness  to  pass  the  confines  of  the  prison- 
like  enclosures.  Though  tired  after  their  week's 
labor,  the  men  laughed  and  chatted  and  bandied 
each  other  with  all  the  jocundity  of  fair-day  rol- 
lickers;  and  despite  their  weariness,  appeared 
happy  and  contented  as  they  poured  out  of  the 
numerous  workshops  into  the  large  rectangular 
yard,  about  which  the  buildings  were  grouped, 
thence  under  the  arch,  past  the  office  window,  and 
out  into  the  village  square. 

In  the  dingy  office,  on  a  high  stool  in  front  of 
a  higher  desk,  behind  the  rail  that  marked  the  line 
of  privacy  of  the  official  head  of  the  industrial 
plant  of  Cole  &  Company,  sat  Mark  Gibson,  the 
confidential  clerk.  Though  the  clock  had  struck 
twelve,  Mark  Gibson  was  still  busy.  As  a  matter 
of  fact,  he  was  seldom,  if  ever,  otherwise.  He 
had  a  habit  of  working  early  and  late,  in  season 


2          THE  SINS  OF  THE  FATHERS 

and  out  of  season ;  a  habit  which  led  his  enemies 
to  remark  that  "  Mark  Gibson  was  too  busy  to 
get  up  a  speaking  acquaintance  with  himself." 
This,  however,  was  not  true  in  any  sense  of  the 
word;  for  Mark  Gibson  knew  not  only  himself 
and  his  capabilities,  but  he  knew  every  mother's 
son  of  the  four  hundred  workmen  who  passed  in 
and  out  of  the  foundry  every  day.  Moreover,  he 
had  a  vein  of  good-fellowship  in  his  make-up  that 
panned  out  wonderfully  well  when  struck  with 
the  right  pick. 

Just  at  this  time,  however,  he  was  busy.  He 
seemed  to  be  even  more  absorbed  than  usual  in 
the  long  rows  of  black  figures  on  the  white  page 
of  the  ledger,  up  and  down  which  his  eyes  ran  with 
lightning-like  rapidity,  his  eyes  and  right  hand 
moving  together  with  a  precision  truly  wonder- 
ful, and  hardly  ever  seen  except  in  some  skillfully 
constructed  automaton. 

The  office  door  opened  and  a  young  man  en- 
tered; but  Mark  neither  raised  his  eyes  nor 
changed  his  position.  He  was  too  methodical  and 
well-trained  to  be  disturbed  by  the  opening  or 
the  shutting  of  a  door,  or  by  the  entrance  of  any 
person  short  of  Cole  &  Company  himself. 

The  young  man  sauntered  to  the  side  window 
overlooking  the  passageway  through  which  the 
workmen  were  pouring,  and  stood  with  his  hands 
thrust  idly  in  the  pockets  of  his  trousers.  There 
was  a  curious  gleam  in  his  eyes,  half  envious,  half 
savage,  as  he  watched  the  men  fill  the  archway 


THE  HEIR  OF  COLE  &  COMPANY      8 

that  lay  between  the  office  and  the  high,  solid 
walls  of  the  opposite  buildings.  Great,  big, 
strapping  fellows  they  were,  every  one  of  them, 
with  muscles  like  iron,  and  eyes  that  shone  like 
stars  through  the  grime  of  honest  toil  in  their 
faces.  His  eyes  moved  with  the  crowd  as  it  swept 
through  the  gateway  and  then  branched  off  in 
various  directions.  The  fascination  of  moving 
bodies  was  upon  him.  This  could  be  seen  by  the 
way  his  eyes  followed  the  different  branches  of 
that  stream  of  humanity  until  each  stream  in 
turn  diverged.  Then  his  eyes  would  sweep  back 
to  the  shadowy  archway,  only  to  be  carried  out 
to  the  dividing  lines  as  before. 

At  last  the  main  body  had  passed  out  and  only 
the  stragglers  remained.  As  it  was  the  mass, 
and  not  the  individuals  which  had  power  to  hold 
his  attention,  he  turned  away  and  walked  over  to 
the  front  window,  from  which  he  had  an  open 
view,  not  only  of  the  village  square,  but  also  of 
the  principal  roads  and  by-streets  that  radiated 
from  it. 

As  he  glanced  across  the  open  square  he 
started;  for  his  eyes  rested  on  a  vision  of  pink 
and  white  muslin,  which  at  that  moment  came 
fluttering  down  the  steps  of  the  solitary  dry- 
goods  store  of  the  village.  A  deep  blush  mounted 
to  his  white  temples  and  shot  up  into  the  very 
roots  of  his  dark  hair.  Turning  half  round,  he 
cast  a  furtive  glance  at  Mark ;  and  finding  that 
paragon  of  industry  still  deep  in  the  intricacies 


4          THE  SINS  OF  THE  FATHERS 

of  his  accounts,  and  being  satisfied  that  he  had 
seen  neither  the  start,  the  blush,  nor  yet  the  ob- 
ject which  had  caused  the  same,  the  young  man 
ventured  another  look  across  the  street.  But 
alas,  the  vision  had  vanished  under  the  hood  of  an 
old-fashioned  carryall ;  and  the  carryall,  with  its 
precious  burden,  was  rolling  away  at  a  lively 
speed.  A  shadow  settled  on  his  face  as  he  watched 
the  receding  vehicle.  When  it  had  passed  beyond 
his  sight,  he  turned  away  from  the  window  with 
a  despondent  air,  flung  himself  into  a  chair,  and 
tilted  it  back  against  the  wall. 

"  A  man  never  knows  the  perversity  of  fate 
until  he  runs  up  against  some  problem  in  life  that 
affects  his  own  existence !  " 

The  words  had  a  savage  ring.  As  he  finished 
speaking,  the  young  man  elevated  his  feet  and  ad- 
justed them  comfortably  on  the  office  table,  and 
began  to  puff  clouds  of  delicately  perfumed  smoke 
from  a  cigar  which  all  the  while  he  had  held 
lightly  between  his  white  teeth. 

Mark  Gibson  glanced  over  the  rail  with  a  quiz- 
zical look  in  his  eyes  and  laughed. 

"  Well,  if  that  isn't  rich !  Never  knew  you  had 
any  problems  of  existence  to  run  up  against !  " 
Then  his  eyes  reverted  to  the  page  and  coursed 
rapidly  up  and  down  as  before. 

"  Nonsense,  Mark !  "  replied  the  young  man, 
taking  the  cigar  from  between  his  lips  and  balanc- 
ing it  daintily  between  his  fingers  as  he  flipped  the 
ashes  from  the  end ;  "  every  man  has  the  problem 


THE  HEIR  OF  COLE  &  COMPANY      5 

of  his  own  existence  to  work  out  for  himself ;  and 
sooner  or  later  he  finds  it  out." 

Mark  raised  his  eyes  and,  with  a  dubious  stare, 
rested  them  for  an  instant  on  the  handsome  face 
of  the  speaker ;  but  he  made  no  comment.  This 
seemed  to  nettle  the  young  man ;  for  he  immedi- 
ately went  on  to  explain. 

"  Now,  what  I  mean  by  existence,  Mark,  is  not 
a  mere  continuity  of  being.  It  is  vastly  more.  It 
is  the  development  of  that  higher  consciousness 
of  a  living  personality  which  is  preeminently  one's 
own ;  a  personality  which  should  be  rated  above 
money  and  above  price.  A  man  of  means  may  ex- 
ist with  very  little  exertion  on  his  own  part.  He 
has  only  to  eat,  drink,  and  be  merry;  take  things 
as  they  come,  and  drift  with  the  tide.  But  that 
is  not  existence  in  its  true  significance;  at  least, 
not  for  man.  Not  that  I  would  depreciate  the 
value  and  the  necessity  of  the  material  things 
which  affect  life  so  powerfully  on  all  sides,"  he 
hastened  to  add,  "  I  only  say  the  mere  enjoyment 
of  them  does  not  constitute  all  of  living;  and  this 
incessant  grind  kept  up  by  some  men  for  the  mere 
sake  of  hoarding  up  riches  for  the  selfish  pur- 
pose of  being  called  rich,  is  the  bane  of  mankind. 
There  is  that  within  man,  if  he  would  but  heed 
it,  which  calls  for  something  higher  and  nobler 
than  this  materialism  offers ;  but  so  illusive  is  this 
intangible  something,  this  unknown  quantity, 
which  is  so  essential  to  the  proper  working  out  of 
life's  most  delicate  problems,  that  we,  poor,  mis- 


6          THE  SINS  OF  THE  FATHERS 

guided  mortals,  are  as  likely  as  not  to  switch  off 
at  a  wrong  tangent  just  as  we  have  reached  a  most 
vital  point  in  our  existence,  and  thereby  upset 
our  best  laid  calculations." 

"  Vital  point?  "  repeated  Mark  in  his  thin,  pip- 
ing voice  from  over  the  top  of  his  ledger,  as  if 
the  idea  conveyed  in  those  two  words  was  the 
only  one  from  the  young  man's  dissertation  that 
had  lodged  in  his  plodding  brain. 

"  Oh,  there's  a  vital  point  all  right,"  affirmed 
the  young  man,  blowing  a  whiff  of  smoke  from 
between  his  half-closed  lips,  "  and  sooner  or  later 
in  life  every  man  runs  up  against  it  in  one  form 
or  another.  It  may  mean  much  or  little  to  the 
man,  according  to  his  tendencies  or  his  environ- 
ments. For  instance,  the  son  of  a  rich  man  may 
reach  a  point  where  he  must  decide  for  himself 
whether  he  will  cut  loose  from  conventionality 
and  plunge  headlong  into  the  maelstrom  of  inde- 
pendence where  at  least  he  can  have  a  chance  to 
show  what's  in  him,  or  whether  he  will  remain  in 
the  lap  of  ease,  a  slave  of  traditions  and  false 
standards.  This  is  the  point  for  him  that  tests 
the  metal  in  his  soul ;  for  he  knows,  if  he  has 
thought  anything  about  the  matter,  that  if  he 
takes  the  plunge  and  fails  to  make  good,  he  stands 
an  equal  chance  of  coming  to  the  surface  again 
in  the  guise  of  either  a  saint  or  a  devil." 

Mark  had  suspended  his  work  for  the  moment 
that  he  might  the  better  follow  the  trend  of  the 
speaker's  mind. 


THE  HEIR  OF  COLE  &  COMPANY      7 

"  So  far  so  good,"  he  replied,  elevating  his 
brows  in  a  comical  attempt  to  look  serious  as  he 
perked  his  face  above  the  rail ;  "  but  now  tell  us, 
pray,  what  pranks  the  saints  or  the  devils  have 
been  playing  on  you  to  call  forth  this  strain  of 
summer  philosophy !  " 

"  Oh,  there  are  many  things  in  this  humdrum 
old  world  to  set  one's  fancy  agog,"  he  answered, 
as  he  watched  a  slender  spiral  of  white  smoke 
curl  upward  and  melt  into  air ;  "  and  while  I  was 
not  thinking  of  myself  when  I  spoke,  yet  I  might, 
and  perhaps  with  profit,  contrast  my  cut  and 
dried  prospects  in  life  with  the  opportunities  open 
to  him  who  first  evoked  my  train  of  thoughts." 

Mark  ga,ve  a  low  whistle,  which  was  his  usual 
way  of  giving  vent  to  his  overcharged  feelings. 

"  Perhaps  you  have  reached  the  vital  point  in 
your  existence?"  he  half  questioned,  half  sug- 
gested. 

"  If  you  had  put  it  *  a  vital  point '  rather  than 
*  the  vital  point '  I  might  plead  guilty,"  he  re- 
plied languidly,  while  a  dreamy  expression  stole 
into  his  eyes. 

Mark  had  finished  his  ledger  accounts  and  was 
straightening  out  a  pile  of  letters  and  other 
papers  and  filing  them  neatly  away  in  a  large  red 
book.  He  looked  over  the  rail  with  a  droll  smile. 

"  I  accept  your  indefinite  article,  if  it  so 
please  you ;  but  for  the  life  of  me,  I  fail  to  see 
where  a  healthy  young  fellow  like  you,  facing  such 
brilliant  prospects  in  life,  can  have  more  than  one 


8          THE  SINS  OF  THE  FATHERS 

vital  point  of  existence  at  this  time  of  day;  and 
in  the  natural  order  of  the  universe  that  point 
should  be  his  stomach.  A  piping  good  dinner 
and  a  cool  tenner  in  his  vest  pocket  would  be  the 
acme  of  happiness  for  most  young  men  at  the 
present  moment." 

"  That  is  where  most  young  men  make  their 
mistake,  in  always  thinking,  as  I  said  before,  of 
the  material  things  of  life  only  in  their  search 
for  happiness.  Is  it  not  written  '  that  man  shall 
not  live  by  bread  alone'?  Then  why  should  he 
confine  himself  solely  to  a  struggle  for  meat  and 
money  ?  " 

"  Because  in  this  practical  world  a  man  can  do 
dashed  little  without  money  and  much  less  with- 
out meat,"  answered  Mark  dryly. 

"  That  is  another  of  man's  fallacies ;  at  least, 
so  far  as  the  money  applies ;  for  a  man  can  do 
a  great  deal  without  money  if  he  goes  about  it  in 
the  right  way.  Money  is  oftener  a  check  than 
a  spur  in  the  pursuit  of  what  is  best  in  this  life. 
Of  course,  just  how  much  a  man  can  get  out 
of  life  without  money  will  depend  somewhat  on 
what  he  puts  into  it  of  his  natural  assets,  such 
as  health,  strength,  and  energy.  It  will  also  de- 
pend somewhat  on  the  path  he  takes  when  he 
reaches  his  first  treacherous  crossroad  with  its 
puzzling  sign-board  pointing  in  so  many  direc- 
tions to  the  goal  of  man's  main  desire,  happi- 
ness." 

He  removed  the  cigar  from  his  lips,  held  it  up, 


THE  HEIR  OF  COLE  &  COMPANY      9 

and  gazed  at  the  pile  of  white  ashes  at  the  end 
with  the  satisfaction  of  a  connoisseur. 

Mark  closed  the  book  with  a  bang,  slid  down 
from  the  high  stool,  walked  over  to  the  table, 
and  seated  himself  jauntily  on  the  edge.  One 
foot  rested  on  the  floor,  the  other  swung  loosely 
between  the  two  supports.  He  sat  for  a  moment 
silently  contemplating  the  dreamy  face  before  him. 
At  last  he  said, 

"  Robert,  this  is  getting  intensely  interesting 
to  me.  Evidently  you  have  arrived  at  one  of 
those  crossroads  and  are  endeavoring  to  decipher 
the  sign." 

"  Oh,  the  sign  is  plain  enough  in  my  case.  On 
one  hand,  it  points  to  mammon ;  on  the  other,  to 
humanity.  It  is  the  choice  that  puzzles  me." 
The  remark  was  punctuated  with  another  long 
whiff  of  white  smoke. 

For  some  moments  there  was  a  dead  silence  in 
the  room  except  for  the  ticking  of  the  great  ma- 
hogany clock  in  the  corner.  For  once  Mark  was 
baffled.  The  two  men  sat  facing  each  other,  one 
apparently  absorbed  in  the  hazy  clouds  of  smoke 
emitting  from  between  his  partly  closed  lips,  the 
other  intently  studying  the  far-away  look  in  the 
eyes  of  the  smoker. 

Mark  Gibson  was  on  the  shady  side  of  fifty, 
and  looked  older  by  ten  years.  He  had  grown 
old  in  the  service  of  his  employer.  The  signs 
of  close  application  to  business  were  visible  in 
both  face  and  form.  Tall  and  slender  nature  had 


10        THE  SINS  OF  THE  FATHERS 

designed  him  to  be.  He  might  have  measured  six 
feet  had  he  ever  straightened  up  long  enough  to 
be  measured  properly;  but  the  intensity  with 
which  he  had  plied  his  calling  had  developed  an 
habitual  stoop  of  his  narrow  shoulders  and  a 
sunken  chest,  which  took  several  inches  from  his 
height,  besides  giving  him  the  appearance  of  a 
consumptive.  His  long,  cadaverous  face,  hollow 
cheeks,  and  small  glittering  eyes,  added  still 
further  to  one's  first  impression  that  Mark  Gib- 
son was  a  man  of  delicate  constitution.  But  far 
from  it !  He  was  tough  and  wiry ;  he  could  out- 
last, so  far  as  endurance  was  concerned,  any  two 
ordinary  men  of  more  robust  appearance.  It  was 
his  boast  that  for  forty  years  he  had  never  missed 
an  hour  from  his  post  of  duty  at  the  office  of  Cole 
&  Company.  And  it  was  proverbial  that  Mark 
Gibson's  strict  attention  to  business  and  to  the 
interests  of  his  firm  played  no  small  part  in  the 
piling  up  of  the  millions  of  Richard  Cole  of  Cole- 
ville. 

The  younger  man,  Robert  Cole,  was  in  looks, 
speech,  and  bearing  an  aristocrat.  There  was  no 
mistaking  that  indelible  grace,  the  stamp  of  cul- 
ture, which  marked  his  every  movement.  Being 
the  only  son  of  Richard  Cole,  he  was  listed  as 
heir  to  one  of  the  largest  fortunes  in  New  Eng- 
land, a  fortune  which  had  been  earned  and  was 
still  accumulating  under  the  joint  management  of 
Cole  &  Company,  and  his  confidential  clerk,  Mark 
Gibson.  Nature  as  well  as  Fortune  had  smiled 


THE  HEIR  OF  COLE  &  COMPANY        11 

benignantly  on  him,  and  had  endowed  him  with 
strength  and  symmetry  of  limb  and  sufficient  good 
looks  to  satisfy  even  his  masculine  vanity.  In 
height  he  stood  a  little  above  the  medium,  straight 
as  an  arrow,  with  firm-knit,  well-rounded  limbs 
that  bore  the  impress  of  the  trained  athlete.  His 
features  were  regular,  pure  Grecian  in  profile; 
eyes,  hazel,  large  and  dreamy ;  while  his  complex- 
ion was  such  as  might  have  been  envied  by  the 
most  consummate  of  coquettes. 

From  early  boyhood  Robert  Cole  had  been  ac- 
customed to  steal  into  the  office  and  reveal  his  in- 
most heart  to  this  trusted  clerk  of  his  father. 
Those  were  the  days  when  Robert  was  struggling 
to  assert  his  identity  as  a  boy,  and  Mark's  secret 
sympathy  was  a  bulwark  of  strength  to  his  young 
soul.  Later,  when  his  boyish  pranks  got  him  in- 
to any  sort  of  scrape,  off  he  would  rush  to  Mark ; 
and  Mark's  tactful  resources  never  failed  to  extri- 
cate the  young  scapegrace  from  his  dilemma.  In 
consequence  of  this,  a  kind  of  idolatrous  friend- 
ship had  grown  up  between  them ;  and  though  the 
stealthy  visits  had  long  since  ceased,  this  old 
friendship  was  still  strong  in  the  heart  of  each, 
and  on  the  part  of  Robert  the  confidence  then 
won  remained  still  unshaken. 

And  here  he  was  again,  man  grown,  fresh  from 
college,  enveloped  in  a  visionary  atmosphere 
which  his  old  friend  had  thus  far  failed  to  pierce, 
bidding  for  the  old-time  sympathy. 

"  I  don't  quite  catch  the  drift  of  your  mean- 


12        THE  SINS  OF  THE  FATHERS 

ing,  Rob,"  said  Mark  in  a  serious  tone,  breaking 
the  silence  at  last.  "  You  surely  don't  mean  that 
you  are  contemplating  taking  orders  and  becom- 
ing one  of  those  cold,  austere,  long-visaged  imita- 
tions of  Rome  that  have  recently  been  introduced 
into  the  church !  " 

Robert  looked  at  him  and  laughed  outright. 

"  Not  quite  so  bad  as  that,  Mark,"  he  replied 
when  he  had  regained  his  composure.  "  But  I 
have  been  thinking,  and  seriously,  too,  of  kick- 
ing over  the  traces  and  snapping  the  golden  bits 
that  have  led  and  curbed  me  ever  since  I  was 
born.  I  want  to  be  free,  free  to  work  out  my 
own  destiny.  You  don't  understand,  Mark,  how 
a  rich  man's  son  is  hampered.  From  his  birth  he 
is  hedged  in  with  conventionalities  that  not  only 
tend  to  blunt  his  sensibilities  to  the  suffering  in 
the  world,  but  also  to  retard  his  development  as 
a  human  factor  in  the  working  out  of  God's  great 
plan  of  cosmic  splendor.  If  he  happens  to  be 
weak,  or  of  a  non-resistant  nature,  and  possessed 
of  a  fair  amount  of  man's  innate  vanity  and  fond- 
ness of  dress,  he  is  likely,  under  the  tutelage  of  his 
mother  or  sisters,  to  develop  into  a  coxcomb." 
He  paused. 

"  Go  on !  "  urged  Mark,  making  a  desperate  ef- 
fort to  stifle  the  smile  which  twinkled  at  the  cor- 
ners of  his  eyes. 

"  On  the  other  hand,"  continued  Robert  after 
a  momentary  silence,  "  if  he  happens  to  be  strong 
and  vigorous  and  shows  any  desire  to  work,  he 


is  ridiculed  and  told  that  work  is  vulgar  and  de- 
grading. He  must  check  the  cravings  of  his  own 
soul  to  be  like  other  men  in  order  to  dance  at- 
tendance on  a  set  of  frivolous  women.  Long  be- 
fore he  is  out  of  his  teens,  he  is  paraded  before 
a  parcel  of  manoeuvring  mammas  or  ancient 
aunties  with  a  view  to  matrimony.  By  and  by, 
if  he  does  not  prove  himself  an  ingrate  for  all 
the  attention  that  has  been  showered  upon  him 
by  his  women  folks,  he  is  married  off  per  sched- 
ule; and  is  thereafter  known  as  the  husband  of 
Mrs.  So-and-so.  His  candle  is  snuffed  out  in  a 
twinkling;  and  he  finds  himself  sans  name,  sans 
ambition,  sans  everything  worth  living  for,  and 
ends  up  either  a  sot  or  a  fool." 

His  cigar  having  burned  low  and  gone  out  dur- 
ing his  remarks,  he  pitched  the  stub  into  a  bronze 
receptacle  on  the  table,  and  producing  another 
from  a  gold  case  which  he  drew  forth  from  the 
inside  pocket  of  his  coat,  proceeded  leisurely  to 
light  it. 

Mark  had  listened  attentively,  and  with  a 
curious  smile  twitching  at  the  corners  of  his 
mouth,  had  watched  him  closely.  When  he  fin- 
ished speaking,  Mark  remained  silent  for  some 
seconds,  as  if  pondering  what  to  say.  His  face 
gradually  resumed  its  habitual  lines  of  gravity, 
and  his  brow  wrinkled  into  a  little  thoughtful 
frown.  At  last  he  said  rather  quietly,  yet  with  a 
tinge  of  rebuke  in  his  voice: 

"  That  is  not  true  in  your  father's  case,  Rob, 


14        THE  SINS  OF  THE  FATHERS 

for  he  has  a  name  in  the  business  world  that  any 
man  might  be  proud  of."  This  was  not  exactly 
what  he  meant  to  say ;  but  the  tongue,  being  ever 
an  unruly  member,  often  works  quicker  than  the 
mind,  and  not  infrequently  to  better  advantage. 
So  it  proved  here. 

"That  is  just  the  point,  Mark!"  exclaimed 
Robert  enthusiastically.  "  My  father  made  his 
own  fortune,  as  I  believe  every  man  should  do ; 
and  he  is  free  to  use  it  as  he  sees  fit.  He  mar- 
ried the  woman  of  his  choice  and  there  was  no 
one  to  say  him  nay.  But  here  am  I,  a  great, 
healthy  creature,  weighted  down  by  my  father's 
money  bags.  You  know  how  I  was  brought  up. 
When  I  was  a  child  I  was  treated  more  like  a 
wax  doll  than  a  human  being.  I  was  too  precious 
a  bit  of  clay  to  be  allowed  to  mingle  with  the  vil- 
lage children.  I  could  neither  speak  to  them  nor 
look  at  them  —  except,  forsooth,  to  look  down 
on  them.  I  never  knew  what  play  was  until 
Frank  and  Ruth  Bent  came  into  my  life,  and  you 
know  how  that  ended." 

The  last  sentence  was  uttered  with  a  tincture 
of  bitterness,  while  a  shadow  of  resentment  flitted 
across  his  face.  He  paused  but  an  instant  and 
then  went  on. 

"  At  school  and  college  the  same  persistent  over- 
sight followed  me  like  an  evil  shadow,  while  my 
holidays  have  been  but  a  hideous  nightmare. 
And  the  end  is  not  yet, —  unless  I  become  des- 
perate and  end  it.  All  that  is  expected  of  me  is 


THE  HEIR  OF  COLE  &  COMPANY        15 

to  take  my  quarterly  allowance  without  question; 
dress ;  look  happy ;  and  spend  my  time  angling 
for  the  hand  of  a  daughter  of  some  old  family 
of  prestige,  so  that  through  my  marriage  our 
family  may  drop  into  the  social  swim  and  bob  up 
serenely  on  the  top  wave  of  society  where  they 
can  make  a  spatter  under  the  buoyancy  of  Dad's 
millions.  Oh,  I  despise  the  whole  sham  bat- 
tle!" 

He  began  to  puff  vigorously  at  his  cigar  as  he 
finished  speaking.  Mark  looked  him  over  with  a 
mixture  of  curiosity  and  admiration  beaming  from 
his  faded  blue  eyes. 

"  I  say,  Rob,"  he  asked  after  a  moment's  si- 
lence, waving  aside  a  cloud  of  smoke,  "  what 
genius  has  had  the  power  to  set  your  mental 
faculties  to  evolving,  out  of  smoke  as  it  were, 
these  problems  of  existence,  as  you  are  pleased  to 
call  them?  " 

Robert  carried  his  eyes  up  to  a  level  with 
Mark's  face  as  he  replied: 

"  If  you  mean  to  ask  of  whom  I  was  thinking 
when  I  began,  my  answer  is  Frank  Bent.  You 
knew  Frank;  and  you  know  what  a  big,  whole- 
souled  fellow  he  was.  I  ran  across  him  at  col- 
lege last  winter  and  found  him  more  interesting 
than  ever." 

"  Ha !  ha !  ha !  "  laughed  Mark  ironically,  giv- 
ing his  leg  a  resounding  slap.  "  Frank  Bent,  our 
old  pink  of  perfection !  has  he  really  turned  up 
again  ?  " 


16        THE  SINS  OF  THE  FATHERS 

"  Come,  come,  Mark,  you  are  too  hard  on 
Frank ! "  pleaded  Robert  with  a  frown. 

"  No,  Rob,  it  is  you  who  are  too  soft  on  him," 
returned  Mark,  shaking  his  head  solemnly,  as  if 
in  warning  of  some  hidden  danger.  "  Oh,  yes ; 
I  remember  him  very  well,"  he  continued  in  a 
reminiscent  strain.  "  His  head  was  always  full 
of  schemes  for  the  regeneration  of  mankind. 
According  to  his  ideas,  the  whole  world  needed 
overhauling,  and  he  was  the  one  man  designed  by 
the  Lord  to  do  the  job;  and  he  meant  to  do  it 
and  to  do  it  up  brown,  too.  I  suppose  he  still 
has  the  job  in  hand,  hey?  "  There  was  a  depth 
of  sarcasm  in  his  tone  which  Robert  saw  fit  to 
ignore. 

"  Frank  sees  great  need  on  all  sides  for  social 
reform ;  and  he  certainly  has  confidence  in  his  own 
powers  for  just  that  kind  of  work." 

"  Exactly ! "  said  Mark,  nodding  his  head  in 
acquiescence.  "  Let  me  see, —  it  must  be  six 
years  since  Frank  left  here  to  begin  his  social 
upheaval  in  pastures  new.  What  has  he  been 
doing  all  these  years  ?  " 

"  Studying,  lecturing,  and  writing  on  his  favor- 
ite subject,  sociology.  He  has  just  completed  a 
special  course  in  Harvard." 

"  Lecturing  and  writing,"  repeated  Mark  medi- 
tatively. "  Strange  we  have  never  heard  of  him 
or  his  work  in  all  these  years." 

"  Nevertheless,  Frank  is  considered  a  mighty 
bright  fellow,"  championed  his  friend,  "  and  he 


THE  HEIR  OF  COLE  &  COMPANY        17 

has  already  received  some  very  flattering  notice 
from  quarters  where  brain  and  courage  count  for 
something.  He  expects  to  be  ordained  in  the 
fall." 

"  That  may  be,"  replied  Mark  in  disparaging 
tones,  "  but  I'll  wager  that  Frank  Bent  will  never 
start  an  earthquake  with  his  push  nor  set  the 
universe  aflame  with  his  genius.  As  I  recall  him, 
there's  a  streak  of  his  grandfather  Dale  in  him." 
Then  abruptly  changing  his  manner  and  fixing 
his  eyes  on  Robert's  face,  he  asked,  "  Just  how 
far  has  he  enlisted  your  sympathy  in  his  schemes 
of  regenerating  the  world?  " 

"  Ah,  there's  the  rub !  "  and  he  puckered  his 
brow  into  a  thoughtful  frown,  not  deigning  to  no- 
tice the  innuent  sneer  in  Mark's  words.  "  While 
I  have  gone  into  this  question  far  enough  to  know 
there  is  something  wrong  somewhere  in  the  social 
scale  —  something  quite  at  variance  with  the  di- 
vine law  —  I  can  not  say  as  yet,  that  I  have  en- 
listed any  great  amount  of  sympathy  in  Frank's 
work.  For  all  that,  I  think  he  is  right  in  his  con- 
tention. One  has  only  to  glance  at  the  conditions 
in  our  own  town  to  be  convinced  of  this. 

"  Look  at  our  men !  They  sweat  and  toil  day 
in  and  day  out,  year  in  and  year  out,  for  the  mere 
privilege  of  eating,  drinking,  and  propagating 
their  own  species  —  sensual  pleasures  all  —  if 
pleasures  they  can  be  called  when  exercised  under 
such  conditions  as  these  men  live.  Not  a  thought 
enters  their  heads  of  the  higher  designs  for  which 


18        THE  SINS  OF  THE  FATHERS 

God  created  them  in  His  own  image.  Yes,  Frank 
Bent  is  right!  These  men  need  awakening! 
They  should  be  taught  to  aspire  to  something 
better  than  their  present  mode  of  living.  This 
domination  of  power,  the  strong  over  the  weak, 
the  rich  over  the  poor,  is  all  wrong.  In  a  sense, 
it  is  criminal !  The  church  is  not  doing  its  full 
duty ;  it  is  not  fulfilling  its  divine  mission  ;  for 
this  everlasting  preaching  of  the  doctrines  of  sub- 
mission, humility,  and  contentment  to  stagnant 
souls  is  retrograding  in  its  effect.  A  man  can  be 
humble,  submissive,  and  content  with  his  lot  until 
the  last  spark  of  manhood  is  quenched  in  his  soul. 
What  is  he  then  but  a  mere  tool  to  be  used  in  the 
shaping  of  some  other  man's  destiny? 

"  Men  should  be  taught  to  struggle  upward 
to  the  higher  level.  No  man  should  be  content 
with  his  lot  until  he  has  achieved  something  worth 
while  —  something  that  will  benefit  not  only  him- 
self but  also  his  fellow  men  and  the  times  in  which 
he  lives.  The  more  I  think  of  it,  the  more  I  am 
in  sympathy  with  Frank  Bent  and  his  ideals,  and 
the  more  I  am  disgusted  with  the  selfishness  of 
money-hoarding  and  the  purse-proud.  Live  and 
let  live  should  be  the  golden  rule  of  life.  I  know 
my  father's  opinion  of  Frank,  and  of  reformers 
in  general ;  but  his  opinion  will  make  no  difference 
to  me  when  I  once  make  up  my  mind  to  act. 
People  may  sneer  at  Frank  as  being  too  idealistic ; 
but  looking  at  his  idealism  from  any  point  of  view, 


THE  HEIR  OF  COLE  &  COMPANY        19 

it  does  not  strike  me  as  altogether  visionary  or 
impractical." 

As  he  ceased  speaking,  he  settled  back  in  his 
chair  with  his  wonted  indolence,  so  familiar  to 
Mark  in  the  old  days  when  he  used  to  make  the 
office  his  lounging  place,  and  again  that  dreamy 
expression  veiled  his  eyes.  For  several  seconds  a 
dense  silence  pervaded  the  room.  He  had  warmed 
up  to  a  pitch  of  eloquence  that  seemed  to  animate 
his  whole  being  and  transform  him  into  an  impas- 
sioned zealot. 

This  outburst  of  feeling  was  a  revelation  to 
Mark,  who  had  always  known  Robert  as  an  indo- 
lent, easy-going  lad,  with  no  will  of  his  own,  but 
with  just  enough  devil  in  his  make-up  to  stamp 
him  as  a  healthy,  natural-born  boy.  To  be  sure, 
Mark  had  seen  little  of  him  during  his  college 
career,  for  his  holidays,  as  he  had  just  intimated, 
had  been  monopolized  by  his  mother  or  his  sister 
in  escorting  one  or  the  other,  or  both,  on  a  round 
of  gaieties.  But  Mark  had  been  under  the  im- 
pression right  along  that  he  had  rather  liked  that 
sort  of  life,  and  had  felt  many  a  qualm  of  disap- 
pointment in  consequence.  He  now  chuckled  in- 
wardly at  the  discovery  that  the  lad  had,  after  all, 
some  mettle  beneath  his  languorous  exterior.  He 
was  too  faithful  to  the  interests  of  Cole  &  Com- 
pany, however,  to  lend  countenance  or  encour- 
agement to  the  rebellious  spirit  just  exhibited  by 
the  young  man.  Neither  could  he  give  advice  un- 


20        THE  SINS  OF  THE  FATHERS 

til  he  had  struck  rock  bottom  of  the  turbulent 
waters  which  were  evidently  lashing  that  newly 
awakened  soul  and  threatening  to  overwhelm  the 
house  of  his  employer.  In  the  interval  of  silence 
which  followed  his  mind  revolved  like  clockwork. 

He  had  heard  the  recent  gossip  of  the  neigh- 
borhood, in  which  Robert's  name  had  been  linked 
with  that  of  Judge  Gray's  niece,  a  Miss  Crosby, 
who  had  been  flitting  in  and  out  of  Coleville  with 
the  summer  flowers  for  several  years  past.  She 
was  rich,  beautiful,  well-connected,  and  in  every 
way  a  desirable  match  for  the  son  of  Richard 
Cole ;  and  he  was  fully  aware  of  the  determination 
of  the  family  to  bring  about  a  union  between  these 
two  young  people.  Mark  also  knew  of  a  certain 
boyhood  love  affair  which  had  sprung  up  between 
Frank  Bent's  sister  Ruth  and  Robert  in  their 
school  days, —  a  boyish  attachment,  which  Mrs. 
Cole  and  Bell  had  nipped  in  the  bud,  or  supposed 
they  had.  It  was  the  remembrance  of  this  almost 
forgotten  love  affair  that  framed  his  next  ques- 
tion. 

"  Have  you  seen  Frank  Bent's  sister  recently?  " 
he  asked  abruptly,  gazing  at  the  lounging  figure 
before  him  with  a  suspicion  in  his  eyes. 

Robert  gave  a  slight  start,  and  his  eyes  sought 
the  questioner's  face  as  he  answered  frankly, 

"  Why,  yes ;  I  have  seen  her." 

"Where?"  asked  Mark  with  the  confidence  of 
a  lawyer  probing  for  material  on  which  to  found 
a  suit. 


THE  HEIR  OF  COLE  &  COMPANY        21 

"  Up  at  the  fishing  pool,"  he  replied,  without 
the  least  sign  of  embarrassment. 

"  Has  she  finished  school  yet?  " 

"  Yes ;  she  was  graduated  a  year  ago." 

"  Deuced  nice  girl,  isn't  she?  "  half  questioned 
Mark,  stroking  his  chin  to  hide  the  insinuating 
smile  quivering  on  his  thin  lips. 

"  Yes,  I  think  she  is,"  assented  Robert 
promptly ;  "  but  what  has  she  to  do  with  the  ques- 
tion at  issue?  " 

"  She  may  have  a  great  deal  to  do  with  it," 
and  Mark  shook  his  head  thoughtfully ;  "  espe- 
cially if  you  happen  to  get  entangled  too  deeply  in 
Cupid's  net." 

This  brought  Robert  to  his  feet  with  a  spring. 

"Oh,  pshaw!"  he  ejaculated  irritably,  tossing 
his  half-consumed  cigar  out  of  the  open  window, 
and  cramming  his  hands  deep  into  the  pockets  of 
his  trousers.  "  Can't  a  man  meet  the  sister  of 
his  friend  without  having  it  imputed  that  she  car- 
ries a  winged  Cupid  on  her  wrist  a  la  falcon  of 
old!" 

He  paced  the  room  as  he  spoke,  with  a  restless, 
sullen  air  that  reminded  Mark  of  a  caged  animal 
longing  to  burst  his  bars  and  be  free.  Mark 
watched  him  in  silence,  hardly  knowing  what  to 
say  to  appease  the  anger  he  had  unwittingly 
roused.  Moreover,  this  exhibition  of  temper  as- 
tounded Mark  for  the  moment.  Here  was  another 
phase  of  Robert's  character  quite  new  to  him,  one 
he  had  never  suspected ;  for  Robert  as  a  boy  had 


22        THE  SINS  OF  THE  FATHERS 

always  been  listless,  indolent,  spiritless,  and  to  a 
certain  degree,  effeminate.  "  Sissy  Cole  "  was  his 
sobriquet  among  the  villagers ;  and  many  a  time 
had  Mark  threatened  to  shake  the  daylights  out 
of  some  youngster  for  shouting  the  derisive  term 
after  the  lad  as  he  rode  through  the  village  in 
his  little  dogcart.  As  he  now  noted  the  flushed 
face,  flashing  eyes,  tense  figure,  and  energetic 
step  of  this  scion  of  wealth,  and  his  mind  slowly 
grasped  the  full  meaning  of  it  all,  he  allowed  him- 
self another  inward  chuckle,  and  almost  let  his 
thoughts  slip  off  the  end  of  his  tongue.  "  Well, 
well,  who  would  have  thought  it !  If  that  isn't 
Dick  Cole  rejuvenated,  I'm  a  pickle!" 

He  was  satisfied  that  he  had  touched  the  main- 
spring of  Robert's  discontent,  and  he  was  shrewd 
enough  to  see  that  it  would  be  useless  to  attempt 
to  argue  with  him  in  his  present  frame  of  mind. 
Knowing  the  ambition  of  the  elder  Coles  for  this, 
their  idolized  son,  he  realized  the  keen  disappoint- 
ment they  would  experience  when  they  learned  that 
this  heretofore  passive  idol  had  ideas  of  his  own : 
ideas,  too,  which  were  not  exactly  in  harmony  with 
theirs. 

He  looked  off  through  the  open  window,  and  a 
shadow  settled  on  his  face  as  he  thought  of  his 
position  between  his  unswerving  affection  for  the 
son,  restlessly  pacing  the  narrow  confines  of  the 
office,  and  of  his  duty  to  that  father  and  mother, 
whom  he  could  see  in  the  near  distance  from  the 
open  window,  sitting  in  placid  contentment  on  the 


THE  HEIR  OF  COLE  &  COMPANY        23 

ivy-covered  veranda  of  their  beautiful  home  on  the 
hill  overlooking  the  square. 

Five  minutes  elapsed,  during  which  time 
neither  had  spoken,  though  much  had  passed 
through  the  mind  of  each.  Mark  could  stand  it 
no  longer.  He  slid  down  from  the  table,  and  ap- 
proaching Robert,  placed  his  arm  affectionately 
across  his  shoulder,  and  took  up  the  pacing  with 
him. 

Stopping  short  in  his  walk  as  they  reached  the 
door  on  the  second  turn  of  the  room,  Robert  faced 
his  old  friend  and  adviser,  and  looking  him 
straight  in  the  eyes,  asked: 

"  Have  you  any  advice  to  offer,  Mark  ?  " 

Mark  was  quite  taken  aback  by  the  sudden 
change  in  Robert's  voice  and  manner.  The  well- 
knit  form  had  been  drawn  up  to  its  full  height, 
the  head  thrown  back  in  a  haughty  poise,  while 
his  tone  had  changed  to  one  of  cold,  deferential 
reserve.  But  Mark  was  not  easily  fazed.  He 
could  take  a  rebuff  with  the  same  stoic  indiffer- 
ence that  he  could  take  the  fawn  of  a  sycophant, 
if  it  so  pleased  him.  During  his  early  apprentice- 
ship as  private  secretary  for  Cole  &  Company,  he 
had  acquired  a  marvelous  self-control  which  made 
his  services  invaluable  to  his  employer,  who  was 
quick-tempered  and  ready  to  explode  on  the  slight- 
est provocation.  He  had  also  developed  a  habit 
of  concealing  his  real  feeling,  which  habit  had 
almost  become  a  second  nature ;  so  that  now,  when 
he  answered  Robert's  question,  neither  voice  nor 


24        THE  SINS  OF  THE  FATHERS 

look  betrayed  the  hurt  dealt  by  Robert's  revolt 
against  his  kindly  interference. 

"  Yes,"  replied  Mark  slowly  after  the  shadow 
of  a  pause,  *'  but  first  I  want  to  show  you  a  pic- 
ture." Drawing  him  gently  towards  the  window, 
and  pointing  to  the  palatial  house  embowered  in 
a  wealth  of  foliage  and  bloom  on  the  hill,  he  said: 
"  Look !  Is  not  that  a  beautiful  picture  of  seren- 
ity and  domestic  happiness?  " 

Robert  raised  his  eyes  to  the  veranda  where  sat 
his  father  and  mother,  apparently  in  the  keen  en- 
joyment of  their  luxurious  surroundings.  To  his 
dying  day  Robert  never  forgot  the  sight.  Mark 
allowed  him  time  to  take  in  every  detail  of  the 
scene,  and  then  went  on: 

"  A  more  devoted  couple  I  never  saw ;  a  more 
loving  father  and  mother  no  son  ever  had  than 
you  have.  Think,  Robert,  of  those  hearts  beat- 
ing in  love  for  you,  of  those  lives  twined  about 
yours.  Be  careful,  my  boy,  lest  you  bring  sor- 
row into  that  home!  I  know  the  secret  of  your 
soul's  unrest,  Rob, —  know  it  just  as  well  as  if 
you  had  told  me  in  so  many  plain  words.  But  you 
are  young  yet,  scarcely  twenty-two  ;  you  can  afford 
to  wait  awhile  before  committing  yourself.  Wait 
at  least  a  year.  You  know  the  old  adage :  '  All 
things  come  to  him  who  waits.'  Meanwhile,  get 
something  to  do.  This  longing  for  work  is  the 
healthiest  thing  about  you,  lad !  "  Mark  patted 
him  affectionately  on  the  shoulders  as  he  spoke. 

"  Work  is  the  panacea  for  either  real  or  imagin- 


THE  HEIR  OF  COLE  &  COMPANY        25 

ary  ills  and  oppositions,  for  time  never  drags  with 
the  toiler  who  knows  how  to  hammer  the  sunshine 
out  of  his  work.  You  are  in  the  right  mood  for 
work.  Your  head  and  heart  and  hands  are  crav- 
ing for  something  on  which  to  expend  their 
energy.  Healthy,  hard  work  in  the  open  is  what 
you  need  just  now,  and  not  to  be  shut  up  in  a 
musty  law  office.  By  all  means  go  to  work ! " 

"  But  what  can  I  do,  Mark  ?  I  have  been 
brought  up  in  such  wasteful  extravagance  and 
idleness  that  I  don't  even  know  how  to  black  my 
own  boots,"  he  said  dejectedly. 

"  I  have  it,  Rob ! "  he  exclaimed,  his  eyes  spar- 
kling with  delight  as  a  happy  thought  seemed  to 
strike  him.  "  I  never  favored  this  law  business 
for  you.  I  have  always  said,  and  I  still  say  it, 
that  you  were  never  cut  out  for  a  lawyer,  your 
father's  opinion  to  the  contrary  notwithstanding. 
Your  proper  place  is  right  here  in  these  works. 
Now,  why  not  go  to  your  father  and  ask  him  to 
let  you  start  in  and  learn  the  business?  The 
time  is  coming  when  you  yourself  will  be  Cole  & 
Company  —  unless  you  sell  your  birthright  for 
a  mess  of  pottage  —  which  God  forbid !  Then 
why  not  begin  to  show  a  little  interest  in  the 
works?  " 

"  How  do  you  suppose  Dad  would  take  such  a 
proposal  ?  "  laughed  Robert,  casting  a  sidelong 
glance  into  Mark's  face. 

"  Oh,  I  realize  that  he  may  not  take  to  it  kindly ; 
he  may  even  lose  his  temper  and  rave  and  rant 


26        THE  SINS  OF  THE  FATHERS 

for  a  spell,  and  possibly  use  a  few  cuss  words ; 
but  in  the  end,  I  rather  think  he  will  like  the  idea, 
especially  if  you  put  it  up  to  him  in  the  right 
way  and  stand  by  your  guns,"  he  said  encourag- 
ingly- 

"  You  may  be  right  about  his  liking  it  in  the 
end,  Mark,  but  I  have  my  doubts."  And  he 
shook  his  head  despondingly. 

"  At  least  it  is  worth  trying,"  urged  Mark. 

"  Yes ;  on  second  thought,  it  is,"  he  said  after  a 
moment's  hesitation,  with  a  touch  of  boyish  en- 
thusiasm in  his  tone.  "  I  will  go  up  at  once  and 
talk  the  matter  over  with  him.  But  what  a  shock 
it  will  give  Mother  and  Bell  if  I  happen  to  grime 
my  hands  with  common  labor!  I  can  almost  see 
the  horror  on  their  faces  now."  And  he  laughed 
heartily.  "  Then  again,"  he  went  on,  "  if  Dad 
will  only  agree  to  my  plan,  it  will  let  me  down  easy 
on  that  European  trip  which  Mother  and  Bell 
are  planning  for  me,  and  which  I  have  made  up  my 
mind  not  to  take  under  any  conditions.  So  here 
goes ! "  And  without  another  word  he  caught 
up  his  hat  from  the  table,  opened  the  door,  and 
passed  out  as  quietly  as  he  had  entered. 

The  door  closed  behind  him,  and  Mark,  listen- 
ing to  the  sounds  of  the  receding  footfalls,  meas- 
ured the  rapid  strides  on  the  plank -walk  with  the 
shadow  of  a  smile  lurking  benignantly  among  the 
wrinkles  of  his  face.  He  stood  in  front  of  the 
window,  just  where  Robert  had  left  him,  with  his 
hands  clasped  behind  his  back.  The  sound  of 


THE  HEIR  OF  COLE  &  COMPANY        27 

the  footsteps  ceased.  By  this  he  knew  that  Rob- 
ert had  struck  into  the  sandy  roadbed  beyond. 
Involuntarily  his  eyes  sought  the  window,  whence 
he  watched  Robert  cross  the  road  and  enter  the 
grounds  surrounding  his  home,  through  the  turn- 
stile at  the  lower  footpath,  and  leisurely  climb  the 
hill.  He  saw  him  reach  the  veranda  and  stand 
for  a  moment  before  his  father;  he  saw  Mr.  Cole 
rise  from  his  seat,  full  of  life  and  vigor;  and  he 
saw  the  two,  father  and  son,  pass  into  the  house 
together,  leaving  Mrs.  Cole  alone  on  the  veranda. 

Then  he  heard  a  rumble  of  wheels ;  and  the  next 
instant  an  open  landau,  drawn  by  a  handsome 
span  of  bays  whose  burnished  silver  trappings 
glittered  in  the  bright  August  sunshine,  whirled 
into  view.  The  horses  slackened  their  paces  as 
they  drew  near  the  great  stone  entrance  leading 
up  to  the  mansion,  turned  in,  and  then  dashed  at 
a  lively  gait  up  the  winding  incline.  He  shook  his 
head  sadly  and  turned  away  with  a  frown  on  his 
face  when  the  steeds  were  reined  in  at  the  steps 
of  the  veranda,  for  he  had  caught  sight  of  a 
beautiful  face  framed  in  a  mass  of  rich  laces  and 
ribbons  as  the  carriage  had  rolled  by. 

"  Why  the  deuce  did  she  come  just  at  this 
time  ?  "  he  muttered  as  he  rang  for  the  watchman 
and  prepared  to  leave  the  office. 


CHAPTER  II 
FATHER  AND  SON 

Robert  reached  his  home,  and  mounting  the 
steps  of  the  veranda  stood,  hat  in  hand,  in  the 
presence  of  his  father  and  mother  under  the  full 
glow  of  the  noonday  sunshine  which  swept  unim- 
peded across  the  opening  in  front  of  the  house. 
The  light  of  a  new  purpose  shone  in  his  eyes. 
The  rich  young  blood  pulsing  rapidly  through 
his  veins,  quickened  by  a  goading  determination, 
had  sent  the  warm  color  into  his  cheeks  and  lips 
and  enhanced  the  delicate  lines  of  the  Grecian 
nose  and  chin  and  neck. 

Richard  Cole  and  his  wife  gazed  at  their  hand- 
some son  with  pardonable  pride  as  he  stood  there 
before  them.  For  nearly  an  hour  he  had  fur- 
nished their  chief  topic  of  conversation.  They 
had  seen  him  enter  and  leave  the  office,  and  had 
watched  him  all  the  way  up  the  hill.  His  coming 
seemed  to  add  new  zest  to  their  communion  of 
souls  as  they  sat  there  in  the  hallowed  enjoyment 
of  the  blessings  which  Providence  had  showered 
upon  them  and  theirs,  not  the  least  of  which  was 
this  manly  son,  around  whom  the  tendrils  of  their 
hearts  had  twined  with  unalloyed  love,  and  on 

whom  the  hopes  of  their  lives  had  centered. 

28 


FATHER  AND  SON  29 

Robert  was  welcomed  with  smiles  by  both  par- 
ents, and  with  a  few  bantering  words  from  his 
father,  to  which  he  responded  in  kind.  Then  ap- 
proaching a  few  steps  nearer  his  father,  he  said 
respectfully, 

"  Father,  may  I  see  you  alone  in  the  library  ? 
I  have  a  private  matter  of  importance  that  I  wish 
to  talk  over  with  you." 

"  Certainly,  my  son,"  replied  Mr.  Cole,  rising 
with  alacrity  and  leading  the  way. 

Mrs.  Cole  patted  the  hand  of  her  husband  as 
it  rested  for  a  second  on  the  arm  of  her  chair  in 
rising,  and  she  smiled  significantly  up  into  his 
face;  but  she  said  not  a  word.  She  was  content 
to  smile  and  to  give  Robert  an  encouraging  nod 
of  her  patrician  head  as  he  passed  her  by  to  fol- 
low his  father  into  the  library.  She  was  apt  to 
jump  at  conclusions,  and  she  was  so  sure  that  she 
understood  the  nature  of  this  private  interview 
that  the  instant  father  and  son  were  beyond  sight 
and  sound,  she  rushed  up  stairs  to  Bell  to  com- 
municate the  good  news  that  Robert  had  pro- 
posed to  Miss  Crosby,  or  was  about  to  ask  his 
father's  permission  to  do  so.  At  which  Bell 
merely  shrugged  her  shoulders  and  said  calmly: 

"  Wait  and  see." 

Robert  followed  his  father  into  the  library  and 
closed  the  door  after  him.  Mr.  Cole  threw  him- 
self into  an  easy  chair  in  front  of  the  glistening 
mahogany  table  that  graced  the  center  of  the 
richly  appointed  room,  and  motioned  Robert  to  a 


30        THE  SINS  OF  THE  FATHERS 

seat  on  the  opposite  side.  Robert  obeyed  the  ges- 
ture, and  dropping  into  the  chair  designated, 
plunged  at  once  into  the  matter  in  hand. 

"  Father,  I  want  to  know  if  you  can't  find  me 
something  to  do  around  the  shops?  I  am  tired 
of  hanging  about  with  nothing  to  do  except  to 
look  nice." 

"  Want  to  shovel  sand  ?  "  asked  his  father  in 
a  bantering  tone.  He  had  never  taken  Robert 
seriously,  and  he  could  hardly  grasp  this  proposi- 
tion as  anything  but  a  joke. 

"  I  am  in  earnest,  Dad,"  said  Robert  in  slightly 
trembling  tones.  "  I  really  want  to  get  down  to 
work.  I  want  to  feel  that  I  am  earning  my  own 
living." 

"  Very  well,"  replied  his  father  in  an  acquies- 
cent tone.  "  I  will  have  that  room  over  the  store 
fixed  up  and  see  that  your  sign  is  painted  and 
properly  hung.  I  promise  that  your  office  shall 
be  in  readiness  when  you  return  from  this  trip  on 
which  your  mother  and  Bell  have  set  their  hearts. 
'  Robert  Cole,  Esq.,  Attorney  at  Law.'  That 
won't  sound  so  bad  now,  will  it?  "  And  he  blinked 
good-naturedly  across  the  table. 

"  But  that  is  not  what  I  want,"  persisted  Rob- 
ert with  a  tinge  of  impatience  in  his  tone.  "  I 
want  to  learn  to  work  with  my  hands  and  to  feel 
the  sweat  of  honest  labor  run  down  my  cheeks. 
I  want  to  know  and  to  understand  men  in  all 
walks  of  life.  In  other  words,  I  want  to  get  in 
touch  with  the  live  wires  of  the  world." 


FATHER  AND  SON  31 

A  look  of  blank  amazement  shot  across  the  table 
from  a  pair  of  dilating  eyes. 

"  What  has  put  this  notion  into  your  head  ?  " 
asked  his  father,  when  he  had  recovered  sufficiently 
to  trust  his  voice. 

"  I  have  been  thinking  of  it  for  some  time," 
he  answered  slowly,  his  confidence  in  himself  ris- 
ing in  proportion  to  the  growing  opposition  which 
he  saw  in  the  narrowing  glint  of  his  father's  eyes. 
"  I  have  come  to  the  conclusion  that  it  is  folly 
for  a  man  to  take  up  a  profession  for  which  he 
feels  he  has  neither  the  taste  nor  the  talent.  You 
chose  the  law  for  me;  but  it  never  appealed  to 
me  as  a  profession,  and  does  not  appeal  to  me 
now.  Should  I  enter  it,  feeling  as  I  do,  I  know 
I  should  make  a  dead  failure  of  myself.  For  that 
reason  I  have  decided  not  to  risk  it." 

"  What ! "  exclaimed  his  father,  rising  and 
bringing  his  fist  down  on  the  table  with  an  angry 
bang.  "  Give  up  the  law  after  wasting  four  years 
at  college !  This  is  preposterous !  " 

"  I  do  not  think  I  have  wasted  any  time  at  col- 
lege," mildly  protested  Robert  in  self-defense. 

"  What  do  you  call  it  then?  "  His  voice  and 
manner  had  grown  very  stern.  "  Have  you  not 
spent  four  years  in  college  preparing  yourself 
for  the  bar?  And  now  you  talk  of  having  no  taste 
for  it,  and  no  talent  for  it,  and  propose  throw- 
ing it  up !  What  do  you  call  that,  if  not  a  waste 
of  time,  to  say  nothing  of  money?  "  Then  with- 
out giving  the  young  man  a  chance  to  answer,  he 


32        THE  SINS  OF  THE  FATHERS 

asked  abruptly,  "  Have  you  said  anything  about 
this  to  Miss  Crosby?  " 

"  No."  And  Robert  looked  at  his  father  in 
surprise. 

"  How  do  you  suppose  she  will  take  such  a  non- 
sensical proposition? "  He  turned  a  pair  of 
scrutinizing  gray  eyes  full  on  Robert's  face. 

"  It  is  immaterial  to  me  how  she  takes  it,"  he 
said  quietly,  meeting  the  steady  gaze  of  his  father 
without  the  flinch  of  an  eyelash. 

"Then  isn't  it  time  you  made  it  material?" 
came  pointedly.  "  Have  you  not  been  paying  at- 
tention to  her  for  the  past  two  seasons?  " 

"  No  more  than  politeness  demanded  when  I 
have  been  forced  into  her  society  by  the  manoeu- 
vres of  Mother  or  Bell."  There  was  a  shade  of 
irritation  in  his  voice,  and  though  a  flush  of  anger 
mounted  to  his  temples,  he  did  not  forget  that  he 
was  speaking  to  his  father.  "  I  —  " 

*'  Come,  come,"  broke  in  Mr.  Cole  with  a  shrug 
of  impatience,  "  we  are  wasting  precious  time.  I 
expect  Judge  and  Mrs.  Gray  to  luncheon  at  two 
o'clock  and  we  shall  need  time  to  dress.  Now, 
Robert,  you  have  had  your  say,  let  me  have  mine. 
You  must  get  this  notion  of  going  to  work  out  of 
your  head  at  once.  I  have  done  work  enough 
in  my  time  to  answer  for  the  whole  family.  Damn 
it,  what  do  you  suppose  I  worked  night  and  day 
and  scrimped  and  saved  and  racked  my  brain  to 
find  paying  investments  for  my  savings,  and  de- 
nied myself  the  privilege  of  a  wife  and  home  and 


FATHER  AND  SON  33 

family  until  I  was  past  forty  for,  if  it  was  not  to 
save  my  son  from  being  subjected  to  the  humilia- 
tion of  a  poverty-stricken  youth  such  as  I  suf- 
fered when  I  was  your  age?  I  never  had  your 
opportunity  to  get  an  education,  nor  the  time  to 
put  on  the  polish  one  needs  to  shine  in  society. 
I  am  sadly  deficient  in  that  line,  and  nobody  knows 
it  better  than  I.  But  as  no  man  can  accomplish 
everything  in  a  life-time,  I  must  be  content  to 
bank  my  standing  in  the  world  on  my  talents  for 
money-making. 

"  Years  ago  I  set  my  heart  on  your  becoming 
a  lawyer;  and  when  you  came  through  your  col- 
lege course  with  flying  colors,  I  was  proud  of  you ! 
I  don't  care  a  rap  if  you  never  earn  a  dollar  at 
your  profession !  But  stick  to  it  you  must,  and 
take  your  place  in  the  professional  world.  Just 
hang  out  your  sign  and  hire  someone  to  do  the 
office  work.  You  can  at  least  be  the  attorney 
for  Cole  &  Company.  Damn  it,  I'll  pay  you, 
well,  five  thousand  dollars  a  year  to  begin  with ! 
And  I'll  increase  it  to  ten  when  you  marry  — 
providing,  of  course,  that  you  marry  sensibly.  I 
tell  you,  boy,  there's  nothing  like  a  good  wife  to 
help  a  man  make  a  success  of  himself !  And  what 
more  charming  a  lady  could  you  find  than  Miss 
Crosby?  Your  mother  and  I  have  set  our  hearts 
on  this  marriage ;  and  we  feel  sure  that  you  will 
not  disappoint  us.  Miss  Crosby  is  coming  with 
her  uncle  to  luncheon.  She  likes  you,  I  know,  and 
would  accept  you  should  you  ask  her.  Why  not 


34        THE  SINS  OF  THE  FATHERS 

settle  the  matter  with  her  to-day?  I  have  talked 
this  question  over  with  the  judge  and  he  is  pleased 
with  the  prospect.  He  is  very  fond  of  you." 

Robert  had  listened  until  he  could  contain  him- 
self no  longer.  His  father  had  gradually  lost  the 
sternness  with  which  he  had  begun,  and  had  mel- 
lowed into  the  doting  parent  whose  thoughts  first, 
last,  and  always  were  for  the  best  interests  of  his 
son.  He  had  even  slid  his  hand  across  the  table 
and  laid  it  caressingly  over  Robert's,  and  stroked 
it  gently  after  the  manner  he  would  have  stroked 
a  purring  cat.  In  Robert's  soul  there  raged  a 
conflict.  He  wavered  between  the  calls  of  love 
and  duty  to  his  father  and  his  obligations  to  the 
callings  and  cravings  of  his  innermost  being. 
Had  Mr.  Cole  stopped  with  his  plea  to  Robert  to 
stick  to  his  profession,  Robert  might  have  capitu- 
lated; but  the  moment  he  brought  Miss  Crosby's 
name  into  the  argument,  Robert  stiffened  and  be- 
came adamant. 

"  There  is  no  use  of  discussing  Miss  Crosby  any 
further,  Dad,"  he  interrupted  with  a  quiet,  de- 
termined air.  "  She  is  out  of  the  question ;  I  shall 
never  marry  her!  And  I  might  as  well  tell  you 
now  that  my  affections  are  centered  elsewhere." 

"  What's  that  ?  "  snapped  his  father,  half  ris- 
ing. 

"  My  affections  are  centered  elsewhere,"  he  re- 
peated with  a  calm  dignity  quite  new  to  his  father. 

"  You  mean  that  you  care  for  some  one  else  ?  " 


FATHER  AND  SON  35 

asked  his  father  huskily,  dropping  back  into  his 
chair. 

"I  do ! "  promptly  admitted  Robert. 

"For  whom,  may  I  ask?"  His  face  was  a 
study. 

"  Ruth  Bent,"  boldly  replied  Robert,  braving 
the  rising  wrath  of  his  father. 

If  a  wasp  had  suddenly  stung  Richard  Cole,  it 
could  not  have  brought  him  to  his  feet  quicker. 
He  stood,  clutching  the  table  with  both  hands, 
and  glared  across  at  the  young  rebel,  unable  to 
utter  a  sound.  His  face  grew  purple  with  sup- 
pressed rage,  and  the  veins  of  his  neck  stood  out 
like  whip-cords.  At  length  he  recovered  himself 
and  spoke,  but  in  a  manner  that  greatly  sur- 
prised Robert.  His  voice  was  strangely  harsh 
and  severe,  and  while  there  was  a  slight  quaver  in 
it,  which  showed  the  intensity  of  his  passion,  there 
was  also  that  note  of  determination  which  had 
hitherto  dominated  all  who  came  within  his  power. 

"  You  go  to  your  room,  sir,  and  dress  for  lunch- 
eon !  Then  come  down  and  meet  my  guests  fully 
prepared  to  settle  this  matter  with  Miss  Crosby 
so  that  your  engagement  can  be  announced  before 
you  sail  for  Europe  next  Tuesday  I  Now  go,  and 
let  me  hear  no  more  of  this  damnable  nonsense !  " 

The  command  was  peremptory.  Richard  Cole 
seemed  to  forget  for  the  moment  that  his  son  was 
no  longer  a  boy.  He  seemed  to  forget  also  that 
this  son  had  been  under  training  for  years  to  learn 


36        THE  SINS  OF  THE  FATHERS 

to  think  for  himself,  and  to  maintain  a  dignified 
manhood. 

Robert  knew  his  father's  irascible  temper  too 
well  to  attempt  any  argument  at  that  time;  so 
he  rose  and  left  the  room  without  a  word.  At  the 
door  he  paused  and  turned  an  appealing  look  at 
his  father,  who  had  dropped  back  into  his  chair 
and  was  sitting  grim  and  stern  at  the  table. 

Robert  loved  his  father  with  all  the  strength  of 
his  nature,  and  he  felt  truly  sorry  to  have  pained 
and  disappointed  him.  He  would  gladly  have 
gone  back  and  begged  forgiveness  had  his  father's 
aspect  been  less  forbidding  and  austere.  As  it 
was,  he  saw  that  the  battle  royal  was  on,  and  he 
understood  that  he  must  either  surrender  uncon- 
ditionally at  every  point,  or  steel  himself  to  stand 
his  ground  against  all  odds.  He  chose  the  lat- 
ter, and  passed  out  of  the  living  presence  of  his 
father  for  the  last  time. 

He  stepped  into  the  spacious  hall  in  a  half-sul- 
len, half-defiant  mood.  As  he  approached  the 
door  of  the  drawing-room,  he  heard  the  voice  of 
Miss  Crosby,  who  had  already  arrived.  It  grated 
unpleasantly  on  his  ears,  and  set  his  soul  aflame. 
With  an  ejaculation  that  sounded  very  much  like 
an  oath,  he  wheeled  about ;  and  half  blind  with 
anger  and  resentment,  dashed  through  the  side 
door,  down  the  steps,  and  struck  into  a  bypath 
leading  to  the  river,  and  strode  rapidly  away. 

After  Robert  left  the  library,  Mr.  Cole  sat  for 
some  time  with  his  arms  folded  across  his  breast, 


FATHER  AND  SON  37 

his  head  thrown  back,  and  his  eyes  fixed  on  va- 
cancy, as  though  buried  in  deep  thought.  Spring- 
ing to  his  feet  at  length,  and  striking  the  table 
an  angry  blow  with  his  open  palm,  he  muttered 
between  his  set  teeth : 

"  I'll  stop  this  damned  Bent  affair,  or  I'll  know 
the  reason  why !  Now  is  my  time  to  humble  the 
haughty  head  of  that  old  jade!" 

Having  delivered  himself  thus,  he  stalked  from 
the  room,  crossed  the  hall,  and  mounted  the  broad 
stairs  to  his  room  to  dress  for  lunch. 


As  we  have  seen,  Miss  Crosby  had  already  ar- 
rived and  was  in  the  drawing-room  chatting  with 
Bell.  Mr.  Cole  heard  her  voice  as  he  passed  the 
door,  and  realizing  the  lateness  of  the  hour,  found 
another  grievance  to  lay  up  against  Robert  and 
the  cursed  offspring  of  Myra  Dale.  Reaching 
his  room,  he  hastened  with  his  toilet;  but  ere  he 
had  half  completed  it,  Judge  and  Mrs.  Gray  were 
announced.  This  again  added  to  his  irritation, 
for  if  there  was  one  thing  more  than  another  that 
he  insisted  on,  it  was  punctuality. 

He  had  learned  from  Mrs.  Cole,  who,  by  the 
way,  was  a  stickler  on  etiquette,  that  to  keep  an 
invited  guest  waiting  beyond  the  appointed  time 
was  an  unpardonable  breach  of  good  breeding. 
And  the  breach  on  this  occasion  would  seem  espe- 
cially grave  to  her,  when  the  guests  were  such 
august  personages  as  Judge  Gray  and  his  lady. 
Keeping  this  in  mind,  his  temper  grew  uglier  with 
every  moment's  delay,  so  that  finally,  when  his 
toilet  was  finished  and  he  had  descended  to  the 
drawing-room,  he  was  not  in  the  most  amiable 
humor  to  receive  his  guests. 

Mrs.   Cole  noted  this  at  once  and  knew  that 
38 


CROSS  WINDS  39 

something  had  gone  wrong  between  him  and  Rob- 
ert. Although  annoyed  by  the  thought,  she  rose 
to  the  occasion,  and  smoothing  over  the  embar- 
rassment of  his  delay,  brought  guests  and  host 
together  with  a  well-feigned  show  of  cordiality  on 
the  part  of  her  grouty  lord.  But  she  soon  found 
that  it  would  require  the  constant  exercise  of  all 
her  tactful  resources  to  keep  things  moving  in  the 
right  groove. 

They  waited  some  time  longer  for  Robert,  but 
they  waited  in  vain.  Mrs.  Cole  glanced  uneasily 
at  Bell,  who  was  doing  her  utmost  to  get  her  father 
and  Judge  Gray  started  on  one  of  their  pet  argu- 
ments. Finally,  Mr.  Cole  became  impatient  of 
Robert's  delay,  and  ordered  the  butler  to  call  him. 
That  Robert  would  obey  his  command,  he  never 
doubted  for  a  moment. 

"  He  is  not  in  the  house,  sir,"  explained  the 
butler,  returning  from  his  search.  "  Mr.  Rob- 
ert went  down  the  river  path  some  time  ago  and 
has  not  yet  returned." 

Mr.  Cole  said  not  a  word  when  the  butler  vol- 
unteered this  bit  of  information,  but  his  face 
blanched  to  his  lips.  He  rose  stiffly  and  offered 
his  arm  to  Mrs.  Gray  to  lead  her  in  to  lunch. 

Mrs.  Cole  and  Bell  saw  the  change  in  his  coun- 
tenance, and  knowing  its  import,  prepared  them- 
selves to  act  so  as  not  to  add  fuel  to  the  smolder- 
ing fires  within  him,  lest  there  should  be  an  out- 
break that  would  cover  them  with  disgrace  in  the 
eyes  of  their  guests. 


40        THE  SINS  OF  THE  FATHERS 

When  Mrs.  Cole  reported  to  Bell  that  Robert 
had  asked  his  father  for  a  private  interview,  Bell 
had  a  faint  premonition,  despite  her  mother's 
sanguine  outlook,  as  to  the  nature  of  that  inter- 
view and  its  probable  outcome.  She  was  cogni- 
zant of  certain  clandestine  meetings  between  Rob- 
ert and  Ruth  Bent,  which  had  been  taking  place 
for  several  weeks  past.  Only  the  day  before  she 
had  expostulated  with  him  on  account  of  these 
meetings;  had  even  threatened  to  inform  on  him 
if  they  did  not  cease  immediately.  But  she  re- 
ceived little  satisfaction,  so  far  as  her  influence  or 
intimidatioln  went.  Her  interference,  however, 
had  one  result.  She  got  an  insight  to  the  real 
Robert  Cole,  an  insight  that  not  only  surprised, 
but  frightened  her,  to  some  extent.  Remember- 
ing her  encounter  with  Robert,  she  had  covertly 
studied  her  father's  face  when  he  entered  the  draw- 
ing-room to  greet  his  guests,  and  therefrom 
quickly  surmised  something  of  what  had  passed  in 
the  library,  and  was  not  wholly  unprepared  for  his 
grouchy  mood.  The  blanching  of  his  face  when 
the  butler  announced  the  absence  of  Robert  warned 
her  that  the  very  sight  of  anything  relating  to 
the  unruly  one  would  be  likely  to  act  as  an  irritant 
on  his  overcharged  feelings ;  and  in  order  to  avoid 
a  possible  outburst  of  passion,  she  made  a  feint 
and  passed  a  word  to  the  butler.  That  worthy  in- 
stantly disappeared  through  the  side  door  into  the 
dining-room,  and  quietly  removed  Robert's  chair 
from  its  accustomed  place  at  the  table  and  closed 


CROSS  WINDS  41 

up  the  gap  ere  Mr.  Cole,  with  Mrs.  Gray  on  his 
arm  entered  the  room,  followed  by  the  Judge  and 
Mrs.  Cole,  while  Bell  and  Miss  Crosby  brought  up 
in  the  rear. 

The  luncheon  had  been  arranged  ostensibly  in 
honor  of  Judge  Gray,  who  was  to  leave  for  Bar 
Harbor  the  following  week  to  spend  the  remainder 
of  the  summer ;  but  in  reality,  it  was  given  in  com- 
pliment to  his  niece,  Miss  Crosby,  who  had  been 
visiting  him  since  early  in  June.  This  was  her 
last  day  in  Coleville.  She  was  to  leave  on  the 
late  evening  train  for  Boston,  whence  she  would 
sail  for  Europe  on  the  following  Tuesday. 

It  might  be  said  here  in  truth  that  it  was  this 
contemplated  trip  which  precipitated  the  whole 
train  of  calamitous  events  which  were  about  to 
follow. 

In  one  of  her  intimate  chats  with  Bell,  soon  after 
her  arrival  in  June  to  pay  her  second  annual  visit 
to  her  uncle,  Judge  Gray,  Miss  Crosby  had  talked 
freely  of  her  plans  for  the  late  summer  and  early 
fall,  which  included  a  trip  to  Europe.  Straight- 
way Bell  conceived  the  idea  of  joining  Miss  Cros^ 
by's  party  on  the  trip  abroad.  The  birth  of  an 
idea  in  Bell's  fertile  brain  meant  simply  the  be- 
ginning of  an  accomplished  fact.  She  hastened  to 
talk  the  matter  over  with  her  mother ;  and  then 
the  two  put  their  heads  together  and  easily  won 
the  sanction  of  Mr.  Cole.  As  a  matter  of  course, 
Robert  was  included  in  their  program  for  doing 
the  continent.  Accordingly  it  was  arranged  that 


4£        THE  SINS  OF  THE  FATHERS 

Mrs.    Cole,   Bell,   and   Robert   should   meet   Miss 
Crosby  in  Boston,  and  all  sail  on  the  same  steamer. 

The  whole  thing,  however,  had  been  planned 
without  consulting  Robert  or  taking  his  inclina- 
tions into  consideration.  He  had  been  such  a 
good,  dutiful  son  and  brother  that  it  never  occurred 
to  them  that  he  might  object,  or  that  he  might 
have  formed  plans  of  his  own  contrary  to  theirs. 
All  he  knew  regarding  the  trip  had  been  gleaned 
incidentally  from  the  general  conversation  between 
his  parents  and  Bell  when  they  met  at  the  table 
or  elsewhere.  He  let  them  talk  and  plan  to  their 
hearts'  content,  asking  no  questions,  and  show- 
ing no  interest  in  the  approaching  journey. 

Yet  at  the  same  time,  he  was  nettled  as  he  had 
never  been  before  at  their  taking  it  for  granted 
that  he  would  fall  into  their  schemes  at  the  last 
moment,  and  his  brain  was  busy  concocting  plans 
of  his  own  to  thwart  their  little  game.  Up  to  the 
hour  of  his  talk  with  Mark  Gibson,  however,  he 
had  formed  no  definite  line  of  action.  After  that, 
events  shaped  themselves  with  such  startling  rapid- 
ity that  he  seemed  to  have  been  hurled  into  the 
arms  of  a  relentless  Fate,  to  be  borne  on  and  on 
into  a  vortex  of  interminable  unhappiness. 

The  luncheon  was  over  at  last,  much  to  the  re- 
lief of  both  host  and  guests.  So  far  as  viands 
and  service  could  make  it  a  success,  nothing  was 
lacking.  Mrs.  Cole  prided  herself  on  the  culinary 
arts  and  appointments  of  her  home  at  all  times ; 
and  this  affair,  having  been  planned  with  excep- 


CROSS  WINDS  48 

tional  care  and  forethought,  was  perfect  in  the 
minutest  detail.  But  in  every  other  respect,  the 
luncheon  was  a  flat  failure. 

In  spite  of  the  efforts  of  Mrs.  Cole  and  Bell  to 
conceal  their  chagrin  at  the  absence  of  Robert, 
they  could  not  wholly  throw  off  the  gloom  it  oc- 
casioned; and  as  often  happens  when  one  strives 
for  effect,  in  their  anxiety  to  appear  at  ease,  they 
overshot  the  mark  and  made  a  bad  matter  worse. 

Mr.  Cole  remained  moody  throughout  the  meal 
and  made  no  attempt  to  hide  his  vexation,  though 
he  did  not  mention  Robert's  name.  At  best,  he 
was  little  more  than  severely  polite.  Judge  Gray 
was  dignified  to  a  point  of  heaviness,  while  Mrs. 
Gray  ate  of  the  good  things  set  before  her  with 
a  serene  enj  oyment  that  forbade-  more  than  a  pass- 
ing remark. 

All  this  threw  the  burden  of  levity  on  Miss 
Crosby.  She  had  been  quick  to  read  the  domestic 
tragedy  in  the  non-appearance  of  the  son  of  the 
house  on  such  a  momentous  event ;  and  the  woe- 
ful faces  about  her  added  zest  to  her  spirits  and 
lent  such  a  piquancy  to  the  situation  as  to  call 
forth  all  the  gaiety  of  her  vivacious  nature.  She 
laughed,  chattered,  and  told  her  wittiest  stories ; 
but  all  to  no  purpose.  The  ghost  would  not  down. 
And  at  last,  she  too,  catching  the  spirit  of  the 
hour,  lapsed  into  silence. 

The  same  gloomy  atmosphere  threw  its  chill 
over  the  drawing-room  when  host  and  guests  ad- 
journed thence,  and  could  not  be  dispelled.  At 


length  Judge  and  Mrs.  Gray  relieved  the  tension 
by  rising  to  make  their  adieus.  Having  driven 
over  in  a  separate  carriage,  Miss  Crosby  remained 
to  follow  later  with  Bell. 

After  bidding  their  guests  good-by  on  the  steps 
of  the  veranda,  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Cole  stood  watching 
the  carriage  move  briskly  down  the  broad,  smooth 
road.  Only  for  a  moment  did  they  stand  thus 
side  by  side  when,  without  a  word,  he  turned  ab- 
ruptly and  entered  the  house,  leaving  her  stand- 
ing alone  on  the  veranda.  Mrs.  Cole  looked  after 
him  with  a  pair  of  mild,  questioning  eyes  and  then 
followed  him  slowly  into  the  house,  apparently  so 
well  used  to  his  brusque  manner  as  not  to  deem 
it  worth  noticing. 

On  entering  the  hall,  Mr.  Cole  gave  orders  for 
his  horse  to  be  saddled  and  brought  round  to  the 
side  door,  and  then  went  directly  to  his  room  to 
change  his  clothes.  Twenty  minutes  later  he 
came  down,  mounted  his  horse,  which  had  been 
saddled  and  waiting  his  coming  for  some  time,  and 
rode  away  without  saying  a  word  to  anyone  as  to 
his  destination  or  purpose.  To  be  sure,  that  was 
nothing  new,  for  Richard  Cole  had  never  been  in 
the  habit  of  talking  over  his  goings  and  comings 
with  members  of  his  family,  or  anyone  else  except, 
perhaps,  Mark  Gibson.  And  heretofore,  his  wife 
had  never  questioned  his  right  to  go  and  come 
as  he  pleased. 

But  somehow  that  day,  as  Mrs.  Cole  caught  a 
glimpse  of  him  through  the  window  as  he  passed 


CROSS  WINDS  45 

into  the  shadow  of  the  oaks,  a  feeling  of  dread 
crossed  her  mind  and  she  trembled  in  every  limb. 
She  knew  that  something  out  of  the  common  had 
taken  place  between  him  and  Robert.  She  knew, 
also,  that  under  that  apparently  calm  exterior 
which  he  so  creditably  maintained  throughout  the 
luncheon,  there  raged  a  tempest  which  boded  ill 
to  any  and  all  who  should  run  counter  to  his 
wishes  while  it  lasted;  and  she  hoped  and  prayed 
that  Robert  would  keep  out  of  his  path  until  his 
passion  had  spent  its  fury. 

Richard  Cole  was  one  of  the  old  school  of  mill 
men,  styled  in  modern  parlance  "  self-made." 
Having  laid  the  foundation  of  his  fortune  on  thrift 
and  industry,  he  had  gone  steadily  on,  building  on 
that  foundation  until,  at  the  time  of  which  I 
write,  he  was  rated  as  a  millionaire,  and  classed 
among  the  giants  of  industry.  Gossip  had  had 
it  that  a  disappointment  in  a  love  affair  in  his 
early  youth  had  turned  his  mind  to  the  pursuit 
of  wealth  as  a  balm  for  a  bruised  heart.  Be  that 
as  it  may,  he  was  well  past  forty  when  he  brought 
his  bride  to  Coleville. 

He  had  then  reached  that  stage  of  life  where  a 
man  feels  the  need  of  a  woman's  hand  and  brain 
to  further  his  ambitious  designs  in  other  directions 
than  money-making.  He  wanted  a  home.  And 
as  only  a  wife  can  make  a  home  in  its  true  sense, 
he  looked  about  him  and  soon  found  the  lady  into 
whose  hands  he  was  willing  to  give  the  guidance  of 
his  domestic  establishment.  Being  devoid  of  senti- 


46        THE  SINS  OF  THE  FATHERS 

ment,  he  chose  his  wife  as  he  would  have  chosen  a 
piece  of  new  machinery  for  his  foundry,  because 
of  her  good  qualities  —  overlooking  no  additional 
points  of  attractions,  such  as  good  looks,  good 
health,  good  family  connections,  and  withal,  a 
good-sized  fortune.  All  of  which  Mrs.  Cole 
brought  him,  even  to  the  fortune,  which  she  held 
in  her  own  right.  And  strange  to  say,  in  spite 
of  the  sentimentalist's  ideas  on  loveless  marriages, 
this  marriage  proved,  in  the  main,  a  happy  one. 
Although  cold,  stern,  self-willed,  and  quick-tem- 
pered by  nature,  Richard  Cole  was  a  devoted  hus- 
band, and  to  the  two  children,  Robert  and  Isabell, 
born  of  this  marriage,  he  was  a  loving  and  indul- 
gent father. 

He  had  one  trait  of  character,  a  dogged  tenac- 
ity, which  dominated  him  and  served  his  purpose 
through  life.  Tenacious  of  his  rights,  powers,  and 
privileges,  he  brooked  no  opposition  to  his  regu- 
larly formed  plans,  and  it  was  to  teach  Robert  a 
salutary  lesson  on  this  point  that  he  rode  forth 
on  that  beautiful  August  afternoon. 

Proud  and  erect  he  sat  his  horse  as  he  rode 
through  the  avenue  of  wide-spreading  oaks.  Ex- 
cept that  his  face  wore  a  scowl  and  his  eyes  shone 
with  an  ugly  light,  there  was  no  visible  sign  of  the 
tumult  raging  in  his  breast.  For  reasons  best 
known  to  himself  he  avoided  the  highway  and  took 
a  cross-cut  through  a  clump  of  woods  that  fringed 
his  estate  on  the  west,  and  presently  emerged  on 
a  wide  strip  of  meadowlands  through  which  the 


CROSS  WINDS  47 

streams  of  his  trout  preserves  wended  their  divers 
ways  ere  emptying  into  the  river  below. 

So  sudden  and  noiseless  had  his  entrance  to  the 
meadow  been  that  he  almost  rode  down  the  motion- 
less figure  of  a  little  man  crouching  in  the  long 
grass  at  the  edge  of  the  nearest  sluice  on  the  very 
verge  of  the  woods.  He  was  industriously  en- 
gaged in  dragging  the  stream  with  a  small  hand 
net.  Springing  to  his  feet  as  horse  and  rider 
dashed  so  unexpectedly  into  the  open,  he  stood 
pale  and  trembling  before  Mr.  Cole,  who  had 
swerved  aside  and  reined  up  barely  in  time  to  pre- 
vent his  horse  from  trampling  down  the  fear- 
stricken  man. 

For  a  moment  Mr.  Cole  was  as  much  surprised 
as  the  man  himself;  the  next,  he  had  lashed  him- 
self into  a  furious  rage.  His  face  turned  purple 
and  his  eyes  bulged  out  hideously  as  he  glared 
down  on  the  poor,  shivering  wretch  at  his  feet. 
From  his  towering  height,  the  powerful  form  of 
the  strong  man  contrasted  strangely  with  the 
stunted,  misshappen  mass  of  humanity  cowering 
in  abject  terror  below. 

This  was  not  the  first  time  that  Dick  Stanton 
had  been  caught  trespassing  on  the  preserves  of 
Oakwood  ;  but  it  was  the  first  time  he  had  run  afoul 
of  the  owner  himself,  and  he  had  reason  to  think 
he  would  not  escape  so  easily  as  on  other  occa- 
sions when  he  had  been  caught  by  Robert  or  the 
care-taker.  They  had  always  shown  him  a  cer- 
tain sympathy  and  had  dealt  with  him  leniently 


48        THE  SINS  OF  THE  FATHERS 

on  account  of  his  deformity  and  apparently  friend- 
less condition,  for  Dick  Stanton  was  one  of  those 
derelicts  of  our  social  system  who  drift  in  and  out 
of  the  world  under  a  bar  sinister.  And  to  make 
matters  worse  for  poor  Dick,  he  was  a  hunch- 
back. 

As  the  steel-gray  eyes  of  Richard  Cole  swept 
over  the  diminutive  figure  at  his  feet,  a  look  of 
intense  hatred  and  malignity  flashed  across  his 
face.  The  eyes  of  the  two  men  met,  but  only  in 
a  fleeting  glance,  for  the  large  brown  eyes,  the 
one  redeeming  feature  of  the  sallow,  pain-withered 
face  of  the  hunchback,  fell  before  the  terrifying 
light  in  those  of  his  captor. 

"  What  the  devil  does  this  mean  ?  "  shouted  Mr. 
Cole  when  he  came  to  himself  at  last,  springing 
from  his  horse  and  pointing  to  a  large  tin  pail 
nearly  full  of  speckled  beauties  with  an  angry 
wave  of  one  hand  while  he  swung  his  riding-whip 
up  with  the  other  and  brought  it  down  with  a  sting- 
ing cut  across  the  face  of  the  half  dazed  man. 

This,  coming  unexpectedly,  roused  Dick  to  a 
sense  of  his  degradation  and  wrought  a  terrible 
transformation  in  his  face  and  demeanor,  startling 
to  see.  With  a  howl  of  pain  and  a  volley  of  oaths, 
he  sprang  aside  just  in  time  to  avoid  another  lash 
of  the  whip ;  but  he  did  not  run.  Having  thus 
placed  an  arm's  length  between  himself  and  the 
angry  man,  he  seemed  to  lose  all  sense  of  fear. 
With  a  peculiar  movement  he  drew  his  squatted 
form  up  to  its  full  stature,  and  giving  his  big  bull 


CROSS  WINDS  49 

head  a  savage  toss  upward,  which  sent  the  long, 
shaggy  hair  flying  back  from  his  broad,  white 
forehead,  he  faced  his  antagonist  with  the  ferocious 
courage  of  a  wild  animal  at  bay.  Again  their 
eyes  met ;  but  this  time  there  was  no  quailing  in 
Dick's.  There  was  in  them,  however,  something 
which  made  the  blood  recede  from  even  the  lips 
of  the  strong  man.  His  arm  dropped  to  his  side 
as  if  suddenly  paralyzed  as  he  stared  into  that 
face  and  caught  the  tigerish  light  in  those  glitter- 
ing brown  eyes.  And  thus  they  stood  for  several 
seconds,  the  pigmy  and  the  giant  holding  each 
other  at  bay.  Dick  was  the  first  to  find  his  voice. 

"  You  cowardly  cur !  "  he  hissed  between  his  set 
teeth ;  and  giving  the  pail  a  vicious  kick  which  sent 
it,  fish  and  all,  spinning  into  the  stream,  he  turned 
on  his  heel  and  walked  slowly  away  and  was  soon 
lost  to  sight  among  the  oaks. 

Mr.  Cole  answered  not  a  word  of  resentment  of 
the  epithet  hurled  at  him ;  neither  did  he  attempt 
to  stop  Dick  from  entering  the  park  grounds.  He 
merely  stood  as  if  terror-stricken  and  watched  the 
little  hunchback  until  he  disappeared.  Then  he 
came  to  himself  with  a  start  and  swore  a  terrible 
oath.  Stooping,  he  drew  the  pail  from  the  stream, 
threw  it  on  the  ground,  and  with  one  stamp  of 
the  heel  of  his  riding-boot,  he  ended  its  usefulness 
for  all  time.  This  done,  he  made  a  swift  survey 
of  the  streams  in  all  directions,  and  having  as- 
sured himself  that  the  banks  were  clear  of  poach- 
ers, he  sprang  into  his  saddle  and  rode  on,  with 


50        THE  SINS  OF  THE  FATHERS 

his  face  a  trifle  darker  and  his  temper  somewhat 
more  ruffled  for  his  encounter  with  Dick  Stanton. 

It  was  nearly  five  o'clock  when  he  drew  rein  in 
front  of  the  old  Dale  homestead  with  its  old-fash- 
ioned, picturesque  surroundings,  and  dismounted. 

Mrs.  Bent  was  seated  on  the  veranda.  She  had 
recognized  Richard  Cole  when  he  appeared  round 
the  bit  of  woodland  that  jutted  into  the  road  be- 
low the  hill  and  shut  off  all  view  of  the  highway 
to  the  east ;  but  it  was  not  until  his  horse  had 
turned  in  at  her  gate  and  begun  his  canter  up  the 
long  incline  that  she  allowed  her  curiosity  to  get 
the  better  of  her  industry.  At  first  she  could 
hardly  believe  her  eyes.  There  must  be  some  mis- 
take. But  no ;  there  he  was,  coming  nearer  every 
second.  The  sight  arrested  the  plying  of  the  long 
needles  among  the  meshes  of  the  bit  of  lace  which 
she  had  been  mechanically  knitting  for  an  hour 
or  more. 

Many  years  had  elapsed  since  Richard  Cole  had 
ridden  down  that  hill,  vowing  never  again  to  rise 
it  until  he  should  come  to  humble  the  proud  head 
of  its  mistress.  Recalling  this  vow,  it  was  with 
no  little  interest,  and  even  alarm,  that  she  now 
watched  and  waited  the  approach  of  the  horse- 
man. Mrs.  Bent,  however,  was  a  woman  of  re- 
markable self-possession ;  and  by  the  time  he  had 
reached  the  veranda  steps  and  alighted,  she  was 
ready  to  extend  to  him  her  hospitality  —  to  him, 
her  old-time  friend  and  enemy.  She  rose  as  he 


CROSS  WINDS  51 

flung  the  bridle  over  the  horse's  neck  and  advanced 
to  meet  him. 

"  Good  afternoon,  Mr.  Cole ;  this  is  indeed  an 
unexpected  pleasure !  "  she  said  by  way  of  wel- 
come. 

Richard  Cole  was  a  man  of  few  words,  and  those 
few,  as  a  general  rule,  went  straight  to  the  point. 

"  Is  my  son  here? "  he  demanded  rather 
brusquely,  ignoring  her  friendly  salutation. 

"  No,  he  is  not ! "  she  replied,  quickly  drawing 
herself  to  her  full  height  and  assuming  a  defen- 
sive reserve. 

"  Mrs.  Bent,"  he  began  in  a  pompous  tone, 
while  his  whole  bearing  took  on  an  air  in  keeping 
with  his  voice,  "  I  have  come  on  a  very  delicate 
matter;  so  delicate,  in  fact,  that  I  hardly  know 
how  to  broach  it." 

"  It  must  indeed  be  a  delicate  matter  when  Rich- 
ard Cole  hesitates  for  words  to  express  it,"  she 
remarked  dryly,  with  a  chilling  stare. 

"  It  is  a  matter,"  he  went  on  without  appear- 
ing to  notice  her  sarcastic  remark,  "  that  affects 
not  only  the  happiness  and  welfare  of  my  son,  but 
also  the  honor  of  my  name  and  the  prestige  of 
my  family."  He  paused  as  if  expecting  her  to 
reply;  but  in  this  he  was  disappointed.  He  had 
ascended  the  steps  and  was  standing  on  the  very 
edge  of  the  veranda  toying  with  the  silver  butt 
of  his  riding-whip.  He  had  not  even  shown  her 
the  courtesy  of  removing  his  hat. 

\ 


52        THE  SINS  OF  THE  FATHERS 

Mrs.  Bent  had  known  Richard  Cole  all  her  life. 
They  were  about  the  same  age,  she  and  he ;  they 
had  attended  the  same  school  when  children,  and 
many's  the  time  her  whispered  help  had  saved  him 
from  making  a  dead  slump  in  the  class ;  and  they 
had  worshiped  at  the  same  church  all  their  lives. 
She  could  recall  many  favors  which  he  had  received 
at  the  hands  of  her  father  when  he  was  a  strug- 
gling young  mechanic.  With  this  in  mind,  his 
pompous  manner  nettled  her  and  drew  her  innate 
hauteur  to  the  surface. 

"  Of  course  you  understand,"  he  continued  after 
a  moment's  silence,  "  that  I  refer  to  this  silly  in- 
fatuation which  your  granddaughter  seems  to 
have  formed  for  my  son." 

He  paused  again.  Still  there  was  no  response 
from  the  white  lips  of  the  woman  before  him. 
They  stood  facing  each  other  on  the  veranda  — 
for  his  first  question  had  frozen  the  natural  flow 
of  courtesy  in  her  blood  and  she  could  not,  after 
that,  invite  him  to  enter  her  home,  or  even  ask 
him  to  be  seated  where  they  were  —  and  so  they 
stood,  he,  arrogant,  sullen,  and  imperative,  she, 
proudly  erect,  resentive,  growing  more  angry 
every  moment.  Thus  they  stood,  these  two  el- 
derly people,  in  relatively  the  same  position  in 
which  they  had  stood  on  a  certain  Saturday  after- 
noon over  fifty  years  before.  Like  a  shadowy 
phantom  the  scene  of  that  day  floated  before  her 
vision  as  he  took  up  the  broken  thread  of  his  re- 
marks. 


CROSS  WINDS  53 

"  You  know  that  he  is  engaged  to  Miss  Crosby." 
She  must  have  betrayed  her  surprise,  for  he 
elevated  his  shaggy  brows  and  half  questioned : 

"  Not  heard  of  it  ?  Then  I  am  most  happy 
to  be  the  bearer  of  the  news.  While  their  engage- 
ment has  not  yet  been  formally  announced,  I  don't 
mind  telling  you  privately  that  they  are  to  be 
married  on  their  return  from  Europe  in  the  early 
fall.  Feeling  that  you  would  not  countenance  any 
clandestine  meetings  between  Robert  and  your 
granddaughter  under  such  circumstances,  I  con- 
sidered it  my  duty  to  ride  over  and  warn  you  of 
the  consequences  of  any  imprudence  on  your  part 
in  allowing  the  young  people  to  be  too  much  in 
each  other's  company.  It  is  not  prudent  of  your 
granddaughter  to  meet  Robert  in  out-of-the-way 
places,  as  I  understand  has  been  the  case.  Young 
girls  need  a  tight  check  rein  at  times,  especially 
when  there  is  a  handsome,  rich  young  man  prowl- 
ing round  in  the  woods.  Young  men  are  young 
men,  you  know,  and  when  temptation  is  thrown  in 
their  way  in  the  guise  of  a  pretty  girl,  they  are 
not  always  responsible  for  results.  At  all  events, 
it  is  not  wise  for  you  to  encourage  your  grand- 
daughter to  be  dangling  at  Robert's  heels  every 
time  he  chooses  to  take  a  stroll  in  the  woods. 
Such  a  course  would  be  mere  folly  now  that  you 
know  he  is  engaged  to  another.  My  son's  wealth 
and  station  is  so  far  above  your  granddaughter's 
that  Robert  would  never  think  of  marriage  in 
connection  with  her,  even  if  Mrs.  Cole  and  I  could, 


54        THE  SINS  OF  THE  FATHERS 

for  one  moment,  consider  such  a  mesalliance,  which 
would  be  absolutely  out  of  the  question ! " 

She  had  listened  silently,  even  patiently,  until 
he  had  finished;  then  she  blazed  forth  with  sting- 
ing effect. 

"  And  who  are  you,  Dick  Cole,  who  dares  to 
come  to  me  and  talk  in  this  strain?  Time  was 
when  you  did  not  consider  a  marriage  with  one  of 
my  house  a  mesalliance;  and  if  your  object  in 
calling  to-day  was  to  boast  of  your  acquired 
wealth  and  family  prestige,  you  might  have  saved 
yourself  a  world  of  trouble.  Yonder  lies  the  way 
back  to  your  dirty  little  town  with  its  mass  of 
cringing  humanity ;  take  it  and  go !  But  remem- 
ber this  for  the  rest  of  your  life  that  Myra  Bent 
has  about  as  much  respect  for  you  and  your  fam- 
ily prestige  as  she  had  fifty  years  ago,  no  more 
—  possibly  a  little  less.  You  are  still  Dick  Cole, 
only  a  little  better  dressed,  a  little  better  fed,  a 
little  better  housed,  but  at  heart  the  same  miserly, 
conceited,  selfish,  and  avaricious  creature  you  were 
then.  Money  has  no  power  to  change  a  sordid 
nature;  neither  has  it  the  purchasing  power  to 
buy  brains.  Mesalliance,  forsooth  !  " 

He  waited  to  hear  no  more.  Turning  on  his 
heel,  pale  and  trembling  with  passion,  he  flung 
himself  down  the  steps  and  into  his  saddle,  and  dig- 
ging his  rowels  deep  into  the  shining  flanks  of  his 
magnificent  horse,  he  dashed  down  the  hill  at  a 
much  higher  speed  than  he  had  come  up. 


CHAPTER  IV 
THE  MYSTERIOUS  SHOT 

Meantime,  what  of  the  son  whom  we  last  saw,  in 
open  defiance  of  all  parental  authority,  stalking 
moodily  towards  the  river  which  flowed  through 
the  extensive  grounds  surrounding  the  Cole  resi- 
dence, and  which  formed  one  of  the  picturesque 
features  of  the  vast  estate? 

The  path  he  had  taken  was  one  of  rare  beauty. 
Springing  surprises  at  every  turn,  it  wound  its 
sinuous  ways  among  clumps  of  ancient  oaks  and 
chestnuts  whose  dense  foliage  shut  out  the  fierce 
rays  of  the  noonday  sun  and  threw  weird  shadows 
into  the  dim  vistas  of  lighter  greens  ahead,  and 
at  last  brought  one  plump  into  a  small  boathouse 
on  the  bank  of  the  river. 

But  Robert  Cole  saw  nothing  of  the  beauties 
along  the  way,  felt  nothing  of  the  charm  of  the 
summer  woods,  heard  nothing  of  the  thrilling  notes 
of  the  feathered  songsters  that  eyed  him  saucily 
from  their  leafy  coverts.  His  whole  being  was  in 
rebellion  against  the  world  at  large.  On  reaching 
the  boathouse,  he  entered  and  gathered  up  some 
fishing  tackle.  This  he  carried  out  and  dropped 
carefully  into  a  shell-like  boat  that  swung  at  its 

moorings   on  the  river.     The  boat,  so  frail  and 

55 


56        THE  SINS  OF  THE  FATHERS 

dainty,  looked  more  like  a  painted  toy  than  a  thing 
for  actual  use.  But  Robert  knew  the  trustworthi- 
ness of  the  little  craft;  and  the  clouds  seemed  to 
lift  from  his  face  as  he  stepped  into  it  and  pushed 
out  into  the  sunlit  stream. 

It  was  the  first  week  in  August ;  and  being  Sat- 
urday afternoon,  the  great  works  of  Cole  &  Com- 
pany were  closed  and  the  noisy  hum  of  machinery 
was  hushed.  A  soft  stillness  pervaded  the  air. 
Nothing  but  the  harmonious  sounds  of  nature 
could  be  heard  through  the  valley  as  the  young 
man  paddled  lazily  up  the  river.  As  his  boat 
darted  in  and  out  of  the  shades  cast  by  the  luxuri- 
ant growth  of  underbrush  and  overtopping  trees 
which  lined  the  banks  on  either  side,  a  delicious 
sense  of  calm  gradually  stole  over  his  spirits  and 
he  began  to  take  an  interest  in  the  scenes  float- 
ing past  him. 

A  full  mile  was  covered  ere  he  reached  the  line 
where  the  woods  of  his  father's  grounds  ended  and 
the  open  pasture  lands  of  the  Bent  estate  began. 
Here  he  landed,  and  drawing  his  boat  up  on  the 
sloping  bank  within  the  shade  of  a  century-old  out- 
spreading oak,  he  took  out  his  fishing  tackle  and 
prepared  to  try  his  arts  on  the  finny  tribes  of  the 
stream. 

The  tree  under  which  he  had  taken  shelter  from 
the  scorching  heat  of  that  August  sun  stood  on  the 
verge  of  the  woods  and  served  as  a  bound.  A  low 
zigzag  rail  fence  running  thence  to  the  highway 
marked  the  full  line.  Time  had  been  when  these 


THE  MYSTERIOUS  SHOT  57 

woods,  and  as  a  matter  of  fact,  the  whole  of  the 
Cole  estate,  was  part  and  parcel  of  the  old  Dale 
farm.  Richard  Cole  had  come  into  possession  of 
this  strip  of  wood  and  meadow  lands,  which  ex- 
tended from  the  falls  at  the  mill  in  the  town  up  the 
river  side  a  mile  and  a  half,  from  old  Mr.  Dale 
through  some  sharp  dealings  which  Mrs.  Bent  had 
never  been  able  to  understand.  She  only  knew 
that  when  her  father  died  and  she,  as  his  only 
heir,  took  possession  of  the  estate,  Richard  Cole's 
title  to  the  land  in  question  was  too  secure  to  be 
disturbed  by  any  ouster  proceedings.  So  the  mat- 
ter was  allowed  to  rest;  but  it  never  ceased  to  be 
an  added  thorn  in  the  mind  of  Mrs.  Bent  against 
her  neighbor,  Richard  Cole. 

This  particular  tree  under  which  Robert  was 
prepared  to  while  away  the  sultry  afternoon  had 
been  a  favorite  resort  of  his  for  years.  On  one 
side  lay  the  woods ;  on  the  other,  a  long  stretch  of 
berry  pastures.  Southward,  the  land  rose  gently 
towards  the  highway,  then,  after  crossing  the 
road-bed,  took  a  sudden  rise  and  gathered  itself 
into  a  round-topped  hill  of  several  hundred  feet 
in  height,  but  whose  frontage  had  been  terraced  in 
such  a  manner  as  to  tone  down  in  appearance 
much  of  its  elevation.  On  the  crest  of  this  hill 
stood  the  Bent  homestead,  a  rambling  old  house, 
two-and-a-half  stories  high,  with  a  wide  veranda 
extending  along  the  whole  front,  over  which  were 
trained  in  artistic  exuberance  a  variety  of  flower- 
ing climbers. 


58        THE  SINS  OF  THE  FATHERS 

From  his  place  under  the  tree  Robert  could  see 
the  comings  and  goings  of  the  folks  on  the  hill; 
and  the  folks  on  the  hill  could  see  the  movements 
of  Robert  while  trailing  his  line  on  the  stream 
without  putting  themselves  to  much  trouble.  In 
years  gone  by  it  had  not  been  an  uncommon  sight 
to  see  signals  fluttering  between  hill  and  river. 
Those  were  the  days  when  Robert  and  his  sister 
Bell  were  wont  to  row  up  to  the  Bent  place  to  play 
with  Frank  and  Ruth.  But  the  signals  had  long 
since  ceased  to  pass  current  between  these  points 
of  interest;  and  Robert  could  only  haunt  the  old 
trysting  place,  and  while  feigning  to  fish,  cast 
longing  glances  towards  the  house  on  the  hill  and 
pray  for  a  chance  meeting  with  Ruth,  for  she  was 
an  enthusiastic  angler  and  frequented  the  river 
banks  with  rod  and  reel. 

Robert  prepared  his  tackle  and  selected  his 
point  of  vantage  with  extreme  care  on  this  August 
afternoon,  and  finally  settled  himself  down  to  his 
task.  But  the  fish  would  not  bite  worth  a  shuck. 
They  nibbled  at  the  worms  with  tantalizing  effect 
as  a  freshly  baited  hook  dropped  temptingly  into 
the  stream ;  but  they  were  too  sly  to  be  caught. 
And  after  two  hours  of  patient  endeavors  to  land 
a  fish,  he  pitched  the  rod  into  the  boat,  threw  him- 
self at  full  length  on  the  grass,  and  gave  himself 
up  to  the  drowsy  influence  of  the  afternoon  and  of 
his  surroundings. 

He  lay  stretched  upon  his  back,  his  hands 
clasped  under  his  head,  with  his  half  closed  eyes 


THE  MYSTERIOUS  SHOT  59 

fixed  in  a  visionary  stare  on  vacancy.  The  same 
dreamy  expression  that  had  puzzled  Mark  Gibson 
in  the  office  was  on  his  face.  He  appeared  oblivi- 
ous to  the  passing  of  time,  and  to  the  heart  throbs 
of  the  great  world  about  him. 

"  A  penny  for  your  thoughts,  Mr.  Indolence ! " 
broke  in  upon  his  reverie  in  a  merry  voice,  fol- 
lowed by  a  peal  of  silvery  laughter. 

He  sprang  to  his  feet,  covered  with  confusion, 
and  faced  the  speaker.  His  embarrassment  lasted 
but  a  moment,  however ;  the  next,  he  caught  the 
spirit  of  the  laughing  nymph  before  him,  and 
joined  in  the  laugh. 

"  I  wouldn't  part  with  them  for  ten  times  that 
amount,  Miss  Vivacity ! "  he  exclaimed,  holding 
out  his  hand  by  way  of  greeting. 

"  You  set  a  high  price  on  your  daydreams,  sir," 
she  bantered ;  "  are  they  really  worth  it  ?  " 

She  placed  her  hand  in  his  open  palm  as  she 
spoke,  and  his  fingers  closed  over  it.  For  a  mo- 
ment they  stood,  looking  into  each  other's  faces. 

It  was  a  pretty,  girlish  face  into  which  he  gazed, 
framed  in  the  rim  of  a  pink  sunbonnet.  The  bon- 
net was  tipped  coquettishly  back  on  a  wealth  of 
fluffy  brown  hair,  and  a  pair  of  big  blue  eyes, 
free  of  the  bonnet's  protecting  shade,  met  his  with- 
out the  quiver  of  a  lash.  To  look  at,  she  was  a 
dainty  little  creature,  scarcely  above  the  medium 
height,  and  lithe  as  a  fairy.  Her  dress  was  pink 
and  white,  and  was  partly  concealed  under  a  long- 
sleeved  gingham  apron,  donned  for  the  purpose  of 


protecting  the  delicate  muslin  from  the  brambles. 

"  You  shall  be  the  judge,"  he  said  after  a  short 
pause,  while  his  eyes  beamed  with  the  admiration 
he  could  not  hide  if  he  would.  "  They  were  of 
your  own  dear  self." 

"  Fie !  fie !  sir,"  she  replied  in  mocking  gravity, 
stepping  back  a  pace,  though  allowing  him  to  re- 
tain her  hand.  "  It  is  not  for  me  to  estimate  the 
value  of  idle  dreams;  me,  who  has  never  an  idle 
moment  from  the  crowing  o'  the  cock  i'  the  morn 
to  the  first  chirp  o'  the  katydid  i'  the  eve.  You 
know  Grandma  would  never  tolerate  such  a  prodi- 
gal waste  of  time  as  daydreaming  consumes." 

There  was  a  roguish  twinkle  in  her  dancing 
blue  eyes,  and  her  healthy  red  lips  were  bubbling 
over  with  laughter. 

"  Ruth  Bent,  you  grow  more  beautiful  and  be- 
witching every  day !  How  can  I  help  dreaming 
of  you?  Waking  or  sleeping,  your  face  is  ever 
before  me !  "  he  exclaimed  in  half  chiding  tones, 
raising  her  hand  to  his  lips  and  kissing  it  passion- 
ately. 

"  Oh ! "  she  gasped,  snatching  away  her  hand, 
while  a  deep  blush  suffused  her  cheeks,  and  her 
eyes  sought  the  ground. 

"  I  beg  your  pardon,  Ruth,  I  didn't  mean  to  of- 
fend you ;  but  I  do  want  to  tell  you  — " 

She  cut  him  short  by  holding  up  a  warning  fin- 
ger. 

"  Milly !  "  she  called,  glancing  over  her  shoulder. 

"  Yes,  Miss  Rufe,  ah's  right  heah !  "     And  im- 


THE  MYSTERIOUS  SHOT  61 

mediately  an  old  colored  woman  stuck  her  head 
through  a  clump  of  bushes  near  by  and  an  instant 
later  stepped  into  the  clearing  and  set  a  large  pail 
of  raspberries  on  the  ground,  while  she  shook  the 
dust  from  her  skirts. 

"  I  think  we  have  berries  enough  now,  Milly, 
and  had  better  return,"  said  Ruth  calmly. 

"  Ah's  ready  if  yo'  is,  Miss  Rufe,"  replied  Milly, 
adjusting  her  bright  turban  and  taking  up  her 
pail. 

"  You  see,  Mr.  Cole,  I  have  picked  pearly  two 
quarts  of  berries  myself,"  said  Ruth,  holding  up 
her  pail  for  his  inspection.  "  Grandma  is  going 
to  make  raspberry  tarts  for  tea.  You  remember 
Grandma's  tarts  ? "  And  she  laughed  a  little 
musical  laugh. 

"  Indeed  I  do,  Miss  —  Bent." 

There  was  no  mistaking  the  tinge  of  retaliation 
and  resentment  in  his  tone.  And  he  looked  into 
her  eyes  as  if  he  would  fain  read  her  soul.  Her 
long  lashes  drooped  under  his  gaze,  and  the  laugh 
died  on  her  lips. 

She  had  seen  the  frown  flit  across  his  face  when 
Milly  made  her  sudden  appearance,  and  she  had 
also  seen  the  pained  start  in  his  eyes  when  she  her- 
self had  called  him  "  Mr.  Cole."  It  was  the  first 
time  that  either  had  addressed  the  other  as  "  Mr." 
and  "  Miss  " ;  and  it  sounded  strangely  out  of 
place  on  the  ears  of  each.  Ruth  saw  that  she  had 
wounded  him,  and  would  have  given  the  world  to 
recall  her  words ;  but  that  was  out  of  the  question, 


62        THE  SINS  OF  THE  FATHERS 

for  she  had  a  part  to  play,  of  which  this  was  only 
the  beginning.  She  must  steel  herself  for  the 
results. 

Robert  Cole  never  sulked,  no  matter  what  the 
provocation,  and  he  seldom  allowed  his  temper 
more  than  a  momentary  flash.  Her  downcast 
eyes  and  pretty  confusion  appealed  to  his  innate 
chivalry  as  a  sort  of  penitential  apology ;  and  he 
quickly  recovered  his  wonted  spirits. 

"  By  the  way,  Ruth,"  he  said  with  a  sudden 
change  of  tone,  "  that  reminds  me ;  I  haven't  tasted 
one  of  Grandma's  tarts  for  an  age  —  four  years 
at  least!  Are  they  as  good  as  they  used  to  be?  " 

"  Better !  "  she  hastened  to  affirm.  "  Grand- 
ma's art  of  cooking,  like  Grandma  herself,  im- 
proves with  age." 

"  Good !  Then  I  shall  walk  up  to  the  house 
with  you  and  wait  for  one  of  those  tarts,"  he  said 
with  instant  decision.  "  Let  me  carry  your  pail !  " 
He  reached  over  to  take  the  pail  of  berries. 

"  No ;  you  shall  not  carry  my  pail !  "  she  replied, 
stepping  aside  and  shaking  her  head  teasingly. 
"  It  is  not  heavy,  I  assure  you.  Besides,  you  like 
raspberries  too  well  to  be  trusted  with  my  pail." 

They  were  walking  side  by  side  now,  with  Milly 
close  in  the  rear.  While  he  was  somewhat  piqued 
at  her  words  and  manner,  he  chose  to  treat  them 
as  jocular,  and  tried  to  keep  up  a  running  con- 
versation of  small  talk  as  they  moved  over  the  un- 
even ground.  But  her  attention  was  so  difficult  to 
hold,  and  her  answers  were  so  unsatisfactory  that 


63 


after  a  few  vain  efforts  to  interest  her  he  gave  up 
in  despair ;  then  both  lapsed  into  silence.  At  any 
other  time  he  would  have  passed  her  moods  unno- 
ticed, or  perhaps  have  taken  them  as  an  added 
piquancy  to  goad  him  on  to  further  exertions. 
But  that  afternoon  he  was  craving  for  sympathy, 
and  it  pained  him  to  see  her  non-responsive  atti- 
tude. It  seemed  to  him  that  he  had  been  rebuffed 
at  every  turn,  and  his  heart  grew  heavy  with  the 
burden  of  it  all. 

"  Oh,  I  had  almost  forgotten ! "  she  exclaimed 
suddenly,  standing  stock  still  in  the  path  and  turn- 
ing a  pair  of  laughing  eyes  full  on  his  face.  "  I 
have  a  surprise  for  you !  " 

"  Surprise  ?  "  he  half  questioned,  responding 
quickly  to  the  sudden  burst  of  animation  in  her 
eyes  and  voice.  "  What  is  it?  " 

"  Frank  is  home !  "  she  cried,  her  eyes  fairly 
dancing  with  delight. 

"  Frank  home ! "  he  repeated,  his  face  lighting 
up  with  a  pleased  expression.  "  When  did  he 
come  ?  " 

"  This  morning,"  she  answered  gaily.  Then 
sobering  instantly,  she  said,  "  Was  it  not  queer, 
though,  that  I  should  have  forgotten  his  coming? 
I  suppose  it  was  because  he  has  been  away  so  long." 
They  resumed  their  walk,  and  she  went  on  chatting 
about  Frank  until  they  reached  the  stone  wall  that 
skirted  the  pasture  along  the  roadside. 

Robert  was  in  the  act  of  letting  down  the  bars 
for  them  to  pass  out  of  the  pasture  when  Ruth 


64        THE  SINS  OF  THE  FATHERS 

exclaimed  with  a  little  sob  of  consternation  in  her 
voice, 

"  Here  comes  Miss  Crosby !  " 
He  looked  round  and  saw  the  landau,  and  seated 
therein  the  lady,  to  avoid  whom  he  had  taken  to 
the  river  nearly  four  hours  before.  It  was  ap- 
proaching at  full  speed.  He  glanced  hastily  at 
Ruth  and  burst  into  a  merry  laugh.  Something 
in  her  face  told  him  that  she  too  had  heard  the 
story  of  his  betrothal  to  this  charming  summer 
visitor.  He  lowered  the  bars  and  stood  aside  un- 
til Ruth  and  Milly  passed  over;  then  he  took  up 
the  long  rail  and  had  begun  to  replace  it  when  the 
carriage  drove  up  and  stopped.  Robert  paused 
to  raise  his  hat  to  Miss  Crosby,  and  then  went  on 
with  his  task  of  putting  up  the  bars. 

In  the  landau  beside  Miss  Crosby  sat  Bell  Cole, 
stiff  and  stately.  She  had  caught  sight  of  the 
trio  about  the  same  time  that  Ruth  had  recognized 
the  turnout,  and  she  had  given  orders  to  the  coach- 
man to  stop  at  the  bars.  She  greeted  Ruth 
familiarly,  introduced  her  to  Miss  Crosby,  and 
then  kept  up  a  flow  of  small  talk  till  Robert,  hav- 
ing put  up  the  rails,  joined  them  in  the  road. 
Then  she  turned  her  attention  to  him. 
"  Robert  Cole  — "  she  began. 
"  Now,  Sis,  I  know  what  you  are  going  to  say ; 
I  agree  with  every  word  of  it.  I  have  committed 
an  unpardonable  offence ;  but  really  I  had  for- 
gotten about  the  lunch  until  it  was  too  late  for 
me  to  dress.  As  one  may  as  well  be  hanged  for 


THE  MYSTERIOUS  SHOT  65 

a  sheep  as  a  lamb,  I  chose  the  sheep ;  so  you  must 
apologize  to  Judge  and  Mrs.  Gray  for  my  ab- 
sence as  best  you  can  without  fibbing.  Better 
tell  the  truth  and  be  on  the  safe  side,  for  I  may 
confess  my  shortcomings  to  the  judge  himself 
when  I  call." 

Bell  bit  her  lips  in  vexation ;  and  in  no  pleasant 
tone,  commanded  the  coachman  to  drive  on. 

Meantime,  Ruth  had  crossed  over  to  the  oppo- 
site side  of  the  carriage  where  she  opened  a  conver- 
sation with  Miss  Crosby,  who  had  leaned  forward 
to  inspect  her  berries.  One  daintily  gloved  hand 
rested  on  the  edge  of  the  landau,  the  other  lay 
negligently  in  her  lap  over  a  large  bunch  of  Ameri- 
can beauties.  Ruth  recognized  the  roses  as  com- 
ing from  the  Oakwood  conservatories,  and  her  eyes 
rested  on  them  with  a  caressing  glance.  Whether 
Miss  Crosby  saw  the  look  in  Ruth's  eyes  is  not 
known,  but  she  quietly  selected  several  of  the  larg- 
est of  the  roses  and  handed  them  to  her  in  a  most 
gracious  manner.  So  charmingly  was  the  offering 
made  that  Ruth  could  not  have  refused  the  blos- 
soms had  she  wished.  She  accepted  them  with  a 
smile  of  thanks. 

Ruth  had  heard  much  of  this  magnificent  Miss 
Crosby  during  the  past  two  years ;  and  though  she 
had  seen  her  at  a  distance  riding  or  driving  along 
the  highway  to  and  fro  between  Oakwood  and  her 
uncle's,  this  was  the  first  time  she  had  met  her 
personally.  She  was  now  ready  to  concede  as 
true  all  the  extravagant  reports  which  had  come 


66        THE  SINS  OF  THE  FATHERS 

to  her  ears  concerning  the  beauty,  grace,  and 
charm  of  Judge  Gray's  niece.  As  Bell  had  been 
her  principal  informant,  Ruth  had  paid  little  at- 
tention to  her  rhapsodies.  Beside,  she  had  a  sus- 
picion of  Bell's  purpose,  for  Bell  had  taken  con- 
siderable pains  of  late  to  drop  in  on  Ruth  at  the 
most  inopportune  moments  to  retail  with  minute 
exactness  the  progress  of  Robert's  wooing  of  the 
Boston  beauty. 

Though  her  heart  beat  a  trifle  faster  as  she 
answered  Miss  Crosby's  questions  about  the  ber- 
ries, Ruth  showed  no  outward  sign  of  embarrass- 
ment. As  for  Miss  Crosby,  if  any  thought  of 
rivalry  on  the  part  of  the  pretty  creature  before 
her  crossed  her  mind,  there  was  no  shadow  of  it 
on  her  face  nor  in  her  voice.  Hardly  more  than 
a  dozen  words  were  exchanged,  yet  few  as  they 
were,  in  them,  each  felt  the  charm  of  the  other's 
personality. 

At  Bell's  orders  the  coachman  had  whipped  up 
the  horses  and  driven  off,  with  Miss  Crosby  smil- 
ing sweetly  at  Ruth  on  one  side,  and  Bell  frown- 
ing darkly  at  Robert  on  the  other.  A  moment 
later  the  carriage  whirled  round  the  bend  in  the 
road  and  was  hidden  from  sight,  leaving  a  cloud 
of  white  dust  in  its  trail.  Beyond  acknowledging 
Robert's  bow,  Miss  Crosby  had  paid  no  attention 
to  his  presence,  though  in  thinking  of  this  after- 
wards, Ruth  laid  it  to  her  sense  of  delicacy  in  not 
wishing  to  be  a  witness  of  his  embarrassment  when 
Bell  took  him  to  account  for  his  delinquency.  To 


THE  MYSTERIOUS  SHOT  67 

avoid  the  dust  when  the  carriage  drove  away,  Ruth 
ran  up  the  grassy  bank  and  stood  at  the  turn- 
stile waiting  for  Robert  to  cross  the  road  and 
join  her. 

Robert,  as  the  carriage  rolled  away,  raised  his 
hat  and  stood  peering  through  the  dust  after  the 
flying  vehicle  for  a  moment  only,  then  his  eyes 
sought  Ruth  whom  he  spied  at  the  stile.  Dashing 
across  the  road,  hat  in  hand,  he  sprang  up  the 
bank  and  stood  beside  her  once  more. 

"  It  was  certainly  very  careless  of  you,  Mr. 
Cole,  to  forget  so  important  an  engagement  as  a 
luncheon  to  Judge  Gray,"  reprimanded  Ruth  in 
a  very  serious  tone  when  he  reached  her  side.  "  I 
do  not  blame  Bell  for  being  angry  with  you;  and 
if  I  were  Miss  Crosby,  I  would  never  forgive  you !  " 

"  Why  ?  "  he  asked,  looking  down  at  her  with 
a  puzzling  smile. 

"  Because  of  such  negligence.  You  have 
slighted  not  only  Judge  and  Mrs.  Gray,  but  also 
Miss  Crosby  herself,"  she  replied,  as  a  shadow 
flitted  across  her  face. 

It  was  while  they  were  standing  thus  at  the  stile 
that  the  scene  between  his  father  and  her  grand- 
mother was  being  enacted.  So  absorbed  had  Rob- 
ert been  in  the  presence  of  his  companion  since  the 
moment  she  had  called  him  back  to  a  sense  of  his 
living  that  he  had  not  once  raised  his  eyes  to  the 
house  on  the  hill,  or  he  would  have  seen  his  father's 
horse  standing  before  the  door.  Neither  had  Ruth 
troubled  herself  to  look  homeward  during  the  last 


68        THE  SINS  OF  THE  FATHERS 

twenty  minutes.  And  so  they  stood  at  the  stile, 
these  two  young  people,  looking  into  each  other's 
eyes ;  and  though  not  in  the  happiest  frame  of 
mind,  yet  they  were  wholly  unprepared  for  the 
impending  tragedy. 

Milly  had  passed  through  the  stile  and  had  kept 
on,  walking  leisurely,  and  was  by  this  time  nearly 
half-way  up  the  hill,  at  the  top  of  which  stood 
Mrs.  Bent  awaiting  her  coming.  Mrs.  Bent's  face 
wore  an  impatient  frown  as  she  glanced  first  at  the 
flying  horseman  and  then  down  at  the  two  young 
people  below,  and  waited  for  Milly  to  approach 
near  enough  to  receive  her  orders. 

Meanwhile  Richard  Cole  was  speeding  down  the 
hill. 

"  If  you  were  Miss  Crosby,  I  shouldn't  care  a 
continental  whether  you  ever  forgave  me  or  not," 
asserted  Robert,  after  a  short  pause.  "  Besides," 
he  went  on  with  a  desperate  gleam  in  his  eyes, 
"  it  is  all  your  fault !  " 

She  raised  her  eyes  to  his  face  with  a  question- 
ing stare. 

Just  at  that  instant  the  loud  report  of  a  gun 
close  by  startled  them ;  and  looking  round  in  the 
direction  whence  it  came,  they  were  horrified  to  see 
a  tiny  cloud  of  white  smoke  floating  out  from  a 
clump  of  bushes  near  the  carriage  gate,  scarcely 
fifty  yards  from  where  they  stood.  They  saw  also 
a  horseman  whom  they  both  instantly  recognized 
reel  in  his  saddle  and  drop  over  sideways.  The 
horse  rose  on  his  haunches  in  fright  and  then 


THE  MYSTERIOUS  SHOT  69 

plunged  madly  forward,  dragging  the  hapless 
rider,  who  had  become  entangled  in  the  stirrup,  at 
his  heels. 

On  came  the  infuriated  steed  while  Robert  stood 
as  if  paralyzed  with  fear.  Recovering  himself  in 
time,  he  sprang  to  the  road  and  ran  with  out- 
stretched arms  to  meet  and  head  off  the  on-plung- 
ing animal.  He  threw  himself  on  its  neck  as  it 
dashed  up,  but  the  maddened  horse  shied  and  shook 
him  off  as  he  would  have  shaken  off  a  fly ;  yet  not 
before  Robert  had  caught  the  dangling  rein,  to 
which  he  clung  with  the  grip  of  a  giant,  and  quickly 
brought  the  trembling  steed  to  a  standstill. 

By  this  time,  Ruth  had  recovered  her  faculties 
and  was  in  the  road  beside  him.  While  he  held 
the  quivering  horse,  she  released  the  foot  of  the 
unfortunate  man  from  the  stirrup  and  bent  over 
to  examine  him.  With  her  handkerchief  she  wiped 
the  blood  and  dirt  from  his  face,  only  to  find  her 
worst  fears  realized.  With  one  glance  at  the 
bloody  and  battered  features  of  the  father,  she 
turned  away  with  a  sickening  dread,  and  raised 
her  eyes  with  a  look  of  dumb  agony  to  the  face 
of  the  son. 

He  understood.  The  rein  slipped  from  his  nerv- 
less  grasp,  and  he  staggered  to  the  side  of  his 
father.  Lifting  the  limp  form  as  if  it  were  that 
of  a  child,  he  carried  it  across  the  road  and  laid 
it  gently  down  on  the  grassy  bank.  Then  his 
strength  seemed  to  desert  him,  and  sinking  down 
beside  the  loved  form,  he  looked  up  helplessly  at 


70        THE  SINS  OF  THE  FATHERS 

Ruth,  who  had  followed  him  up  the  bank.  He 
seemed  dazed  and  unable  to  act  further. 

Fortunately,  Mrs.  Bent,  from  her  position  on 
the  hill,  had  seen  all  that  had  happened,  even  to 
the  flash  of  the  rifle  from  the  bushes,  and  lost  no 
time,  after  recovering  from  her  first  shock,  in  reach- 
ing the  side  of  the  injured  man.  Joe  hastened 
after  her,  while  Milly's  hysterical  screams  at- 
tracted the  attention  of  several  hired  men  at  work 
in  a  nearby  field,  and  brought  them  in  quick  time 
to  the  scene. 

Taking  in  the  situation  at  a  glance,  Mrs.  Bent 
gave  her  orders  right  and  left  with  the  confidence 
of  a  trained  general.  She  dispatched  one  of  the 
men  for  a  doctor,  ordered  the  others  to  carry  the 
wounded  man  up  to  the  house,  sending  Ruth  and 
Milly  on  ahead  to  prepare  the  bed,  hot  water,  and 
bandages,  while  she  delegated  Joe  to  carry  the 
sad  news  to  Mrs.  Cole. 

Her  alertness  brought  Robert  to  a  sense  of  his 
position ;  and  the  hopes  raised  by  her  words  in- 
fused new  strength  into  his  limbs.  He  rose  to  his 
feet  as  the  men  took  up  the  beloved  form  of  his 
father,  and  as  they  moved  slowly  up  the  steep  ter- 
races, he  walked  beside  them,  holding  the  still  warm 
hand  of  his  father  in  a  loving  clasp. 

But  Richard  Cole  was  even  then  beyond  recall, 
and  the  weight  of  his  millions  had  already  shifted 
to  the  shoulders  of  his  son. 


CHAPTER  V 
THE  ARREST 

Mark  Gibson  was  working  in  his  garden  when 
the  messenger  arrived  with  the  news  of  the  trag- 
edy. At  first  he  would  not  credit  the  report.  It 
was  too  horrible  to  believe;  and  he  stared  at  Joe, 
who  had  hastened  over  to  Mark's  after  delivering 
his  message  to  Mrs.  Cole,  like  a  man  suddenly 
gone  daft.  But  finally,  when  he  did  give  it  cre- 
dence, a  fearful  suspicion  entered  his  mind.  No 
details  had  been  given  him  —  nothing  but  the  bare 
facts  that  Mr.  Cole  had  been  shot  down  in  cold 
blood  near  the  entrance  of  the  Bent  grounds. 

Mark  staggered  into  the  house  and  broke  the 
news  to  his  wife.  "  Richard  Cole  has  been  shot 
and  is  dead,"  he  gasped  as  he  sank  limp  and  breath- 
less into  a  chair,  and  sat  gazing  at  her  with  a 
horrified,  half  questioning  stare. 

For  a  moment  she  too  seemed  dazed;  then  she 
seemed  to  read  his  thoughts,  and  a  flash  of  re- 
sentment darkened  her  eyes.  He  had  told  her  at 
the  dinner  table  of  his  talk  with  Robert  and  of 
Robert's  proposed  interview  with  his  father,  so 
that  she  quickly  caught  the  drift  of  his  thought. 

She  was  a  woman  of  quick  wit,  keen  insight,  good 

71 


72        THE  SINS  OF  THE  FATHERS 

judgment,  and  of  considerable  force  of  character, 
and  generally  acted  to  the  point  without  much  fuss 
or  waste  of  energy. 

"  No,  Mark  Gibson,  I  don't  believe  it !  Robert 
Cole  wouldn't  kill  a  chicken  if  he  were  starving; 
so  get  any  notion  of  that  kind  out  of  your  head 
at  once!  Now  pull  yourself  together  and  change 
your  clothes  and  get  up  there  as  soon  as  you  can ! 
They  will  need  you." 

This  was  the  spur  that  he  needed ;  and  in  a  very 
short  time,  he  was  on  his  way  to  the  scene  of  the 
tragedy.  A  few  minutes'  walk  brought  him  to  the 
bridge  that  spanned  the  river  just  below  the  curve 
where  it  swept  round  the  grounds  of  the  Cole  es- 
tate. He  was  walking  rapidly,  with  his  head 
bowed  on  his  breast  and  a  half  dazed  expression 
on  his  face,  when  suddenly,  as  he  neared  the  end 
of  the  iron  structure,  the  crooked  form  of  Dick 
Stanton  swung  clumsily  over  the  rail  and  landed 
in  front  of  him. 

Mark  seemed  startled  by  the  sudden  apparition 
of  the  young  man,  and  stood  stockstill,  staring 
blankly  at  him. 

"  I  hope  you  don't  take  me  for  a  ghost,  Mr. 
Gibson,"  said  Dick  with  a  forced  laugh,  which  gave 
his  face  a  diabolical  cast  that  sent  a  shiver  over 
Mark. 

"  No,  Dick,"  replied  Mark,  pulling  himself  to- 
gether, "  I  should  be  more  likely  to  take  you  for 
an  imp  of  darkness ;  but  the  fact  is,  you  came  upon 
me  so  unexpectedly  that  I  didn't  have  time  to  think 


THE  ARREST  73 

at  all.  Have  you  heard  anything  about  the  death 
of  Mr.  Cole  ?  "  Mark  eyed  him  nervously  as  he 
asked  the  question. 

"The  death  of  Mr.  Cole!"  repeated  Dick  in 
surprise.  "No;  is  he  —  dead?"  His  large 
brown  eyes  dilated  with  a  look  of  infinite  delight ; 
and  his  hand  went  unconsciously  to  his  cheek, 
where  a  long  red  streak  marked  the  imprint  of  the 
whip-lash. 

"  So  I  have  been  told.  I  am  on  my  way  up  to 
Mrs.  Bent's  where  he  was  shot  down  in  cold  blood, 
and  now  lies  dead."  Mark  moved  away  as  he 
spoke. 

"  I  guess  I'll  go  up  with  you,  if  you  don't  mind." 
And  without  waiting  for  an  assent  to  his  pro- 
posal, he  swung  himself  over  to  Mark's  side  and 
dropped  into  step. 

Mark  frowned  as  he  heard  the  shuffling  foot- 
steps and  saw  the  ungainly  shadow  of  the  repulsive 
little  being  at  his  side.  He  quickened  his  pace 
as  if  he  would  fain  shake  off  the  detestable  pres- 
ence. Dick  tried  his  best  to  keep  up  with  the 
rapidly  increasing  strides  of  Mark ;  but  after  cov- 
ering a  short  distance,  he  had  fallen  so  far  in  the 
rear  that  he  gave  up  the  attempt,  and  finally 
changing  his  mind,  he  faced  about  and  trudged 
leisurely  homeward. 

Mark  hastened  forward  and  arrived  at  the  gate 
of  the  Bent  place  just  as  the  carriage  containing 
Bell  and  Judge  Gray  dashed  up.  Seeing  Mark, 
the  coachman  drew  rein  and  invited  him  to  ride 


74f        THE  SINS  OF  THE  FATHERS 

up  the  hill.  Mark  sprang  into  the  carriage  and 
seating  himself  beside  Bell,  laid  his  cold  hand 
gently  on  hers  in  silent  sympathy.  Thus  they 
rode  up  the  hill  to  the  house,  where  they  found 
Robert  pacing  nervously  back  and  forth  on  the 
veranda,  waiting  the  coming  of  Bell.  Mrs.  Cole 
had  already  arrived  and  was  in  the  parlor  with  all 
that  was  earthly  of  the  husband  whom,  with  all 
his  faults,  she  dearly  loved. 

All  was  still  bustle  and  confusion  in  and  about 
the  house.  The  hurrying  hither  and  thither  of 
messengers,  and  the  constant  arrival  of  friends  and 
neighbors  as  the  news  was  bruited  abroad,  kept  the 
excitement  up  to  a  feverish  pitch.  Strange  as  it 
may  seem,  it  was  not  until  Mark  Gibson  arrived 
that  anyone  thought  of  looking  for  the  assassin. 
By  this  time  the  whole  town  of  Coleville  had  been 
aroused,  and  crowds  of  excited  men,  women,  and 
children  were  hastening  along  the  highway  towards 
the  place  of  the  murder. 

It  didn't  take  Mark  long  to  dispatch  a  messen- 
ger for  the  sheriff,  nor  to  call  Judge  Gray's  at- 
tention to  the  necessity  of  an  immediate  search  of 
the  premises.  The  judge  agreed  with  him,  and 
taking  the  responsibility  on  himself  in  the  absence 
of  the  sheriff,  he  organized  a  searching  party  of 
the  first  half  dozen  men  who  had  arrived  on  the 
scene.  Walking  to  the  edge  of  the  level,  accom- 
panied by  Mrs.  Bent,  he  instructed  them  to  begin 
their  investigation  at  the  spot  where  the  fatal  shot 


THE  ARREST  75 

had  been  fired,  and  to  follow  any  and  all  clues  that 
would  lead  to  the  apprehension  of  the  murderer. 
Mrs.  Bent  herself  pointed  out  the  exact  clump  of 
bushes  whence  the  flash  of  the  rifle  came. 

The  men  started  down  the  hill  in  hot  haste. 
Not  a  man  spoke  on  the  way  down,  for  each 
seemed  to  be  awed  by  the  gravity  of  his  mission. 
A  dastardly  crime  had  been  committed  and  it  was 
their  duty  to  run  down  the  perpetrator.  Would 
he  prove  to  be  one  of  their  own  workmates?  Each 
felt  in  his  own  heart  that  such  might  be  the  case, 
for  Richard  Cole  had  been  a  hard  taskmaster  in 
many  ways  and  had  made  many  enemies  in  his 
time.  With  these  thoughts  running  through  their 
minds  they  reached  the  spot  as  indicated  by  Mrs. 
Bent ;  and  almost  the  first  obj  ect  their  eyes  rested 
on  was  a  double-barreled  gun  leaning  against  a 
tree  on  the  edge  of  the  thicket.  George  Hillis,  the 
foremost  of  the  party,  seized  the  gun  with  trem- 
bling hands.  A  deathly  pallor  overspread  his  face, 
for  he  had  recognized  the  gun  the  instant  his  eyes 
rested  on  it.  The  men  pressed  closely  about  him 
while  he  examined  it.  One  barrel  was  empty.  A 
further  examination  revealed  a  small  silver  plate 
on  the  butt  end,  on  which  was  inscribed  the  owner's 
name,  "  Frank  Bent."  The  men  looked  at  each 
other  in  breathless  silence. 

"  But  Frank  isn't  at  home,"  explained  one  of 
the  party,  as  if  answering  a  question  none  dared 
to  ask. 


76        THE  SINS  OF  THE  FATHERS 

"  Are  you  sure  he  is  not  at  home?  "  asked  Hillis 
eagerly,  grasping  at  the  suggestion  as  a  drowning 
man  might  grasp  at  a  straw. 

"  Sure  I  am !  Do  you  think  Frank  Bent'd  be 
at  home  two  hours  and  not  come  down  to  see  us 
fellows?  You  know  better'n  that  yourself, 
Hillis !  "  he  answered  with  an  assurance  born  of 
perfect  confidence  in  the  loyalty  of  Frank  Bent 
to  his  old  friends. 

"  Then  we  had  better  report  our  find  to  the 
judge;  he'll  know  what  to  do  with  it,  and  direct 
our  next  move,"  said  Hillis,  turning  to  retrace 
his  steps  up  the  long,  steep  hill. 

Accordingly,  the  party  trailed  back  to  the 
house,  discussing  their  find  with  bated  breath. 
They  were  met  on  the  veranda  by  Judge  Gray, 
into  whose  hands  Charlie  Hillis  gave  the  gun,  at 
the  same  time  explaining  where  and  how  he  found 
it. 

"  A  very  important  clue,"  said  the  judge  in  his 
most  judicial  tone.  "A  very  important  clue!" 
he  repeated,  turning  the  gun  round  and  examin- 
ing it  carefully.  "  Now  the  next  step  is  to  find 
the  owner,  which  ought  not  to  be  difficult,  for  this 
is  no  common  weapon.  It  must  belong  to  — 
Frank  Bent ! "  he  aspirated  as  his  eyes  caught  the 
name  on  the  plate. 

Ruth  had  come  to  the  door  just  as  Hillis 
mounted  the  steps  of  the  veranda,  and  seeing 
Frank's  gun  in  his  hand,  she  was  suddenly  seized 
with  a  great  terror.  Her  heart  seemed  to  stop 


THE  ARREST  77 

its  beating.  Clutching  the  door  for  support,  she 
stood  as  if  turned  to  marble,  though  her  mental 
faculties  were  keenly  alert.  She  listened  to  all 
that  passed  between  Hillis  and  Judge  Gray  as  in 
a  dream.  When  her  brother's  name  escaped  the 
lips  of  the  judge,  she  instantly  regained  all  her 
powers,  and  turning,  she  dashed  through  the  long 
corridor  and  into  the  kitchen  which  she  had  seen 
Frank  enter  by  the  rear  door  only  a  few  moments 
before. 

Frank  was  leaning  over  the  sink  where  he  had 
just  placed  a  fine  string  of  fresh  fish  in  a  pan 
when  she  burst  wildly  into  the  room,  and  threw 
her  arms  about  his  neck,  sobbing  hysterically, 

"  Oh,  why  did  you  do  it,  Frank,  why  did  you 
doit!" 

"  Do  what,  Sis  ?  "  asked  Frank  in  surprise,  look- 
ing down  into  the  terror-stricken  face  of  the  weep- 
ing girl. 

"  Then  you  didn't  do  it !  Oh,  tell  me  you  didn't 
do  it,  Frank!  It  would  kill  me  to  know  you  did 
it !  "  she  cried  pitifully,  drawing  his  face  down  and 
kissing  it  tenderly. 

He  folded  her  in  his  arms  and  tried  to  soothe 
her. 

"  Come,  Ruth,  try  to  calm  yourself  and  tell  me 
what  I  have  or  have  not  done  to  cause  you  so  much 
distress ;  then  I  can  answer  for  myself,"  he  said 
with  a  smile  of  assurance  as  he  stroked  her  head. 

"  Why,  Mr.  Cole  has  been  killed,"  she  gasped, 
making  a  desperate  effort  to  control  herself,  "  and 


78        THE  SINS  OF  THE  FATHERS 

your  gun  has  been  found  near  the  place  where  the 
shooting  occurred.  One  barrel  is  empty  and  — 
and  —  I  fear  —  they  —  they  think  —  you  did 
it!" 

Frank's  face  became  ghastly  and  for  a  second 
he  could  not  speak.  The  solemn  expression  in  his 
eyes  showed  how  keenly  alive  he  was  to  the  danger 
confronting  him. 

"  When  did  it  happen,  Sis  ?  "  he  asked  presently 
in  a  husky  voice. 

"  Less  than  an  hour  ago,"  she  replied  between 
sobs. 

"Where?" 

"  Down  at  the  carriage  entrance.  He  had  been 
up  to  see  Grandma  and  when  he  reached  the  gate 
on  his  way  out,  someone  shot  him  from  the  bushes. 
Oh,  it  was  dreadful!  He  was  brought  here  and 
Mrs.  Cole  and  Bell  were  sent  for.  Didn't  you  see 
the  crowds  on  the  road  and  on  the  lawn  in  front 
of  the  house?  " 

"  No,  Sis,  I  saw  nothing.  I  came  over  the  fields 
and  up  through  the  orchard." 

"  Judge  Gray  is  out  there  and  when  Charles 
Hillis  gave  him  your  gun  and  he  read  the  name 
on  it,  everybody  looked  as  if  they  thought  you  had 
committed  the  deed.  But  you  didn't,  did  you?  " 

There  was  a  depth  of  pathos  in  her  question, 
in  which  there  was  mingled  a  shade  of  doubt  and 
fear.  She  appeared  almost  beside  herself  and 
clung  to  him  desperately.  The  strain  of  the  past 
hour  had  been  intense  and  had  taxed  her  endur- 


79 

ance  to  its  utmost.  She  had  been  brave  and  help- 
ful through  all  of  the  terrible  ordeal;  had  given 
freely  of  her  sympathy  to  Robert,  Bell  and  Mrs. 
Cole ;  had  been  here,  there,  and  everywhere  at  her 
grandmother's  bidding;  all  of  which  had  been  a 
drain  on  her  strength  and  had  left  her  weak  and 
almost  helpless  to  meet  the  shock  of  this  awful 
suspicion.  Frank  saw  the  agonizing  pain  in  her 
face  and  hastened  to  alleviate  her  sufferings. 

"  No,  Sis,"  he  said  solemnly,  "  on  my  honor  I 
did  not  shoot  Mr.  Cole!  I  have  not  fired  a  shot 
from  that  gun  or  any  other  gun  since  eight  o'clock 
this  morning,  when  I  cleaned  it.  At  that  time  I 
tried  two  shots  in  the  orchard.  Don't  you  re- 
member coming  out  to  see  what  I  was  firing  at  ?  " 

"  Yes,  yes,  I  remember ! "  she  admitted,  laugh- 
ing hysterically.  "  Of  course  you  didn't  do  it ! 
Come  out  quick  and  tell  them  so !  They  are  all 
on  the  veranda !  "  And  she  literally  dragged  him 
across  the  room. 

Reaching  the  door,  he  placed  his  shoulder 
against  it,  and  disentangling  her  arms  from  about 
his  neck,  he  held  her  trembling  hands  in  a  vice- 
like  grip  while  he  looked  into  her  eyes  and  said 
in  a  very  serious  voice, 

"Now,  Sis,  this  will  never  do.  You  must  let 
me  answer  for  myself  in  my  own  way.  This  is  a 
very  grave  matter  and  it  may  require  all  my  wits 
to  defend  myself.  If  a  breath  of  suspicion  is  at- 
tached to  my  name,  they  will  very  likely  rake  up 
that  old  score  between  Mr.  Cole  and  me  as  a  mo- 


80        THE  SINS  OF  THE  FATHERS 

tive  for  my  committing  the  deed.  In  that  case  I 
may  have  difficulty  in  convincing  them  of  my  in- 
nocence. You  must  calm  yourself  and  be  brave; 
and  if  worst  comes  to  worst,  you  must  help  Grand- 
ma to  bear  up.  Promise  me  that  you  will  do 
this ! " 

"  I  will  do  my  best,  Frank ! "  she  replied,  gulp- 
ing down  a  sob. 

He  stooped  and  kissed  her;  then  opening  the 
door,  they  passed  out  in  silence  and  together,  hand 
in  hand,  walked  through  the  long,  spacious  hall 
leading  to  the  veranda. 

The  sheriff  had  arrived  immediately  after  Ruth 
had  rushed  off  to  inform  Frank  of  what  she  had 
overheard,  and  had  been  given  a  detailed  account 
of  the  shooting  and  of  the  finding  of  the  gun.  He 
had  called  Mrs.  Bent  and  had  questioned  her  about 
the  rifle.  She  had  admitted  that  it  was  the  prop- 
erty of  her  grandson ;  that  he  had  come  home  that 
morning  for  a  short  visit ;  that  he  had  taken  the 
gun  out  with  him  early  in  the  afternoon  to  go 
gunning  for  skunks  and  had  not  yet  returned. 

Frank  and  Ruth  reached  the  threshold  just  as 
the  sheriff  began  to  deliver  himself  of  his  official 
formula,  and  paused  to  listen. 

"  I  am  sorry  for  you,  Mrs.  Bent,"  he  said  in 
subdued  tones,  "  but  my  duty  compels  me  to  search 
your  house  and  arrest  your  grandson,  Frank  Bent, 
for  the  murder  of  Richard  Cole,  Esq." 

Mrs.  Bent  staggered  backward  into  the  arms  of 


THE  ARREST  81 

Frank,  who  had  stepped  from  the  threshold  at  that 
moment  to  face  his  accusers. 

"  No  need  to  search  the  house,  Mr.  Sheriff ; 
here  I  am  ready  to  account  for  myself,"  said 
Frank  in  a  hoarse  voice.  Then  stealing  a  glance 
at  the  ashen  face  of  his  grandmother,  and  think- 
ing that  she  had  fainted,  he  turned  and  was  about 
to  lift  her  bodily  and  carry  her  into  the  house  when 
a  restraining  hand  was  laid  on  his  shoulder.  It 
was  the  hand  of  the  law. 

"  Frank  Bent,"  came  the  sheriff's  voice,  cold, 
hard,  and  inflexible,  and  loud  enough  to  be  heard 
on  the  remote  edges  of  the  crowd  which  had  gath- 
ered in  front  of  the  house,  "  in  the  name  of  the 
Commonwealth  I  arrest  you  on  a  charge  of  mur- 
dering Richard  Cole." 

Frank's  face  grew  a  shade  paler;  his  lips  con- 
tracted convulsively ;  and  his  arms  tightened  round 
the  form  of  his  grandmother,  but  he  did  not  speak. 
All  of  which  was  noted  by  the  excited  throng  and 
construed  as  a  sure  sign  of  guilt. 

Mrs.  Bent,  however,  had  not  fainted.  She  had 
merely  been  stunned  by  the  sheriff's  words,  as  if 
by  a  blow.  The  touch  of  Frank's  arms  about  her, 
and  the  sound  of  his  beloved  voice  in  her  ears  kept 
her  tottering  senses  from  failing  her  entirely.  As 
she  felt  the  gentle  pressure  of  her  boy's  protecting 
arms  her  strength  gradually  returned,  and  a  de- 
licious sense  of  security  stole  over  her.  She  felt 
as  if  she  had  just  awakened  from  a  horrible  night- 


82        THE  SINS  OF  THE  FATHERS 

mare  to  find  herself  in  the  arms  of  her  darling 
boy.  But  the  illusion  was  soon  dissipated,  for  the 
next  words  of  the  sheriff  pierced  her  heart  like  a 
knife  and  brought  her  to  a  full  realization  of  the 
danger  surrounding  him.  She  roused  herself,  and 
throwing  her  arms  about  his  neck,  clung  to  him 
with  the  energy  born  of  despair.  Her  lips  quiv- 
ered, but  the  only  sound  that  escaped  them  was 
a  low,  heart-rending  moan. 

Frank  looked  appealingly  at  Ruth,  who  still 
stood  on  the  threshold  where  he  had  left  her,  as 
motionless  as  a  marble  statue.  She  understood 
the  mute  appeal  and  responded  with  alacrity.  As 
she  unclasped  the  fingers  of  her  grandmother  from 
about  his  neck,  she  whispered  with  commanding 
force, 

"  Tell  them  you  didn't  do  it,  Frank !  " 

He  made  her  no  reply ;  but  taking  his  grand- 
mother's face  between  his  cold  palms,  he  said  in  a 
firm  voice, 

"  Don't  be  alarmed,  Grandma ;  this  will  come 
out  all  right.  You  have  always  had  such  faith  in 
me;  don't  give  it  up  now,  just  when  I  need  it 
most !  "  Then  he  handed  her  over  to  Ruth  and 
faced  the  crowd. 

The  first  person  he  encountered  as  he  wheeled 
about  was  Robert  Cole,  who  stood  between  Judge 
Gray  and  Mark  Gibson.  Robert  had  made  a 
movement  towards  Frank  when  his  old  playfel- 
low first  stepped  upon  the  veranda ;  but  Mark  Gib- 


THE  ARREST  83 

son  had  laid  a  restraining  hand  on  his  arm  and 
held  him  back.  Robert's  face  was  pale,  and  his 
eyes  were  red  with  weeping.  He  looked  like  a  man 
on  the  verge  of  a  collapse.  As  their  eyes  met, 
Frank  read  the  half  doubting,  half  accusing  ques- 
tion in  Robert's  eyes,  those  eyes  that  had  never 
before  looked  into  his  with  a  shadow  of  misgiving. 
Frank  held  out  his  hand,  yet  Robert  made  no  move 
to  take  it,  because  Mark  Gibson  still  retained  a 
heavy  hand  upon  his  arm.  Thus  they  stood,  fac- 
ing each  other  in  ominous  silence  for  the  space  of 
several  seconds,  when  Frank  spoke: 

"  Robert  Cole,  we  have  long  been  friends.  No 
man  here  knows  me  better  than  you  do.  I  ask 
you  now,  as  man  to  man,  can  you  believe  that  I 
killed  your  father?  " 

"  Before  answering  that  question,  let  me  ask 
another,"  said  Robert  slowly,  keeping  his  eyes  fixed 
on  Frank's  face. 

"  Go  on ! "  said  Frank,  returning  Robert's 
steady  gaze. 

"  Did  you  fire  that  shot?  " 

"  No !  On  my  word  of  honor  as  a  man,  no ! 
I  have  not  had  that  gun  in  my  hands,  nor  any 
other  gun,  since  two  o'clock  this  afternoon  when 
I  stood  it  up  against  the  juniper  tree  near  the 
carriage  entrance  and  told  Joe  to  take  it  up  to 
the  house." 

His  words  and  manner  were  earnest  and  con- 
vincing in  their  sincerity.  At  least  they  struck 


84        THE  SINS  OF  THE  FATHERS 

Robert  so.  To  others  of  the  bystanders,  how- 
ever, their  very  earnestness  was  only  another  proof 
of  a  guilty  conscience. 

"  I  believe  you,  Frank ! "  cried  Robert,  break- 
ing away  from  Mark  and  grasping  the  outstretched 
hand  in  both  his  own.  "  I  did  not  want  to  think 
you  could  commit  such  a  dastardly  deed,  Frank ! 
Indeed  I  did  not,"  he  sobbed. 

How  Ruth's  heart  beat  with  joy  at  these  words ! 
She  had  seen  Mark  draw  Robert  back  when  he 
made  his  first  attempt  to  greet  Frank,  and  she 
feared  the  influence  of  this  self-appointed  guard- 
ian of  the  Cole  interests.  But  now  Robert  had 
spoken  for  himself,  she  took  new  courage,  and 
turning,  she  led  her  grandmother  into  the  house 
with  a  somewhat  lighter  heart  and  a  steady  step. 

"  You  say  that  you  told  Joe  to  carry  the  gun 
up  to  the  house  ?  "  broke  in  the  sheriff. 

"  Yes,"  replied  Frank  firmly. 

"  Then  where  is  Joe?  "  There  was  a  sneering 
smile  on  the  sheriff's  face  which  clearly  betrayed 
his  doubts  of  the  truth  of  Frank's  words. 

"  Here !  "  answered  a  voice  from  below ;  and  Joe, 
the  gardener  and  man-of-all-works  about  the  place, 
pushed  his  way  through  the  crowd  and  ascended 
the  steps. 

"  Well,  and  what  have  you  to  say  for  your- 
self?" asked  the  sheriff,  fixing  a  pair  of  pierc- 
ing gray  eyes  on  Joe. 

"  It  is  true,  sir,  what  Master  Prank  says  about 
the  gun."  His  voice  trembled  and  his  tongue 


THE  ARREST  85 

clove  to  the  roof  of  his  mouth.  That  he  was 
frightened  was  plain  to  be  seen ;  for  the  pallor  of 
his  face  and  neck  was  visible  through  the  heavy 
coat  of  tan  —  the  accumulation  of  years  in  the 
open  air  in  all  sorts  of  weather. 

"  Take  no  stock  in  him ;  he's  in  the  plot ! " 
shouted  a  voice  from  the  crowd  which  had  been 
growing  in  numbers  momentarily,  and  which  was 
now  beginning  to  show  a  menacing  attitude  towards 
Frank. 

Both  the  sheriff  and  Judge  Gray  had  noticed 
the  increasing  agitation  of  the  rabble.  Each  mo- 
ment the  throng  pressed  closer  and  closer  about 
the  veranda  and  appeared  to  grow  more  restive 
under  the  horrible  suspense  that  seemed  to  perme- 
ate the  very  air.  It  had  grown  excessively  hot 
and  humid  during  the  last  hour.  The  breeze  had 
sunk  to  a  breathless  calm,  and  the  sultry  rays  of 
the  declining  sun  beat  upon  the  upturned  faces 
of  the  excited  crowd  with  maddening  effect. 

The  sheriff  saw  danger  lurking  in  the  askance 
glances  which  followed  every  move  of  those  on  the 
veranda,  and  he  saw  that  he  must  act  cautiously 
in  order  not  to  rouse  the  demon  of  the  mob. 

There  seemed  to  be  a  settled  conviction  in  the 
minds  of  the  assemblage  that  Frank  was  the  cul- 
prit ;  and  there  seemed  also  to  be  a  growing  sus- 
picion that  Robert  stood  ready  to  clear  him  of 
the  crime  provided  he  could  foist  it  upon  one  of 
the  mill  hands.  Every  second  brought  the  crisis 
nearer. 


86        THE  SINS  OF  THE  FATHERS 

The  mob  now  began  to  exhibit  an  ugly  resent- 
ment. The  dark,  scowling  glances  were  followed 
by  low  hootings  and  catcalls,  which  in  turn  gave 
place  to  a  fusillade  of  epigrams,  interspersed  with 
opprobrious  terms  that  made  the  air  look  blue  in 
short  order.  Nor  was  this  opprobrium  directed 
wholly  against  Frank.  The  sheriff  and  Judge 
Gray  came  in  for  their  full  share,  for  desperate 
men  are  no  respecters  of  persons. 

"  The  law  should  have  no  favorites  !  "  came  from 
one  side.  *'  We'll  stand  for  no  whitewashing  of 
the  rich,  no  smooching  of  the  poor ! "  was  hurled 
from  the  other.  "  Put  the  crime  where  it  belongs 
and  hang  the  criminal,  and  let's  have  no  fooling 
about  it !  "  floated  up  from  the  outer  edge  of  that 
sweltering  mass  of  humanity.  This  brought  a 
chorus  of  "  Hear !  hear !  " 

The  situation  was  becoming  more  critical  and 
hopeless  of  control  every  moment.  It  was  evident 
that  something  must  be  done  quickly  to  relieve  the 
strain  and  to  break  down  the  false  impression  un- 
der which  the  crowd  was  laboring.  The  sheriff 
knew  how  futile  it  would  be  to  attempt  to  argue 
with  such  a  mob.  As  well  try  to  get  the  attention 
of  a  raving  maniac.  There  was  only  one  course 
open  to  him ;  so  taking  Frank  by  the  arm,  he  led 
him  into  the  house,  leaving  the  judge  to  deal  with 
the  people  as  best  he  could. 

Judge  Gray  took  his  cue  from  the  sheriff  and 
quietly  waved  the  importunate  curious  off  the  ver- 
anda ;  and  addressing  the  crowd,  advised  them  to 


THE  ARREST  87 

disperse  at  once  and  go  peaceably  to  their  homes. 
He  assured  them  that  justice  would  be  best  served 
by  allowing  the  law  to  work  out  in  its  regular  way. 
His  advice  was  heeded  rather  reluctantly,  for  a 
full  hour  elapsed  ere  the  lawn  was  cleared  of  the 
last  intruder. 

Meanwhile,  the  sheriff  had  taken  Frank  through 
the  house  and  out  by  the  rear  door,  and  the  two 
men  were  well  on  their  way  to  the  county  jail  be- 
fore anyone,  except  the  immediate  members  of  the 
family,  were  aware  of  their  departure. 

It  was  half  past  seven  when  the  key  turned  in 
the  lock  of  the  cell  door,  and  Frank  found  himself 
a  prisoner  in  a  stuffy,  six-by-twelve  apartment, 
into  which  the  last  rays  of  the  evening  sun  were 
struggling  through  a  narrow,  iron-barred  window 
on  a  level  with  his  chin.  He  was  tired  and  hungry. 
When  his  supper  was  brought  in  he  ate  it  with  a 
relish  that  surprised  his  jailor.  Soon  after, 
stretching  himself  on  his  cot,  he  fell  into  a  heavy 
slumber  and  slept  the  sleep  of  the  innocent  until 
broad  daylight  in  the  morning. 

"  He  must  be  either  a  hardened  criminal  or  a 
fool  to  show  so  little  concern  about  the  stretching 
of  his  neck,"  commented  the  sheriff,  in  telling  of 
Frank's  coolness  and  his  readiness  to  let  the  law 
take  its  course.  "  His  whole  anxiety  centers 
about  his  grandmother  and  Ruth.  As  to  his  own 
fate,  he  is  perfectly  callous, —  says  he  knows  where 
he  stands  and  has  nothing  to  fear." 

The  next  day  being  the  Sabbath,  there  could  be 


88        THE  SINS  OF  THE  FATHERS 

no  hearing  for  poor,  unfortunate  Frank.  And  to 
his  further  discomfort,  he  was  informed  early 
Monday  morning  that,  owing  to  the  feverish  ex- 
citement still  dominating  the  villagers,  it  was 
deemed  wise  to  postpone  the  hearing  till  after  the 
funeral  of  Mr.  Cole,  which  had  been  arranged  to 
take  place  on  Tuesday  afternoon.  Thus  it  would 
be  Wednesday  at  the  earliest  before  he  could  hope 
to  be  heard. 

Despite  all  these  delays  and  discouragements,  he 
accepted  the  situation  with  philosophical  fortitude. 
There  was  no  growling,  no  grumbling,  and  no  com- 
plaining over  his  hard  lot.  His  confidence  in  his 
ability  to  clear  himself  at  the  proper  time  was 
unbounded,  and  lent  a  cheeriness  to  his  air  that 
proved  a  source  of  inspiration  to  his  grandmother 
and  Ruth  when  they  visited  him  on  Sunday  after- 
noon and  brought  him  a  basket  of  dainties. 


CHAPTER  VI 


It  was  nearly  ten  o'clock  on  that  eventful  night 
when  the  body  of  Richard  Cole  was  borne  from 
the  door  of  the  Dale  Farm.  Well  had  Richard 
Cole  kept  his  word  of  fifty  years  ago, — "  never  to 
darken  the  door  of  the  Dale  Farm  until  he  came  to 
lower  the  haughty  head  of  Myra  Dale !  "  Truly 
he  had  accomplished  his  mission,  but  in  a  manner 
he  had  never  designed.  Never  was  the  old  proverb, 
"  Man  proposes  but  God  disposes,"  more  piti- 
lessly carried  out. 

The  head  of  Myra  Bent  was  indeed  bowed  with 
sorrow,  anxiety,  and  fear ;  yet  for  all  that,  she  felt 
a  sense  of  relief  and  could  breathe  more  freely 
when  she  saw  the  vehicle  bearing  the  remains  of  her 
old-time  admirer  move  slowly  down  the  hill  from 
her  door.  It  was  as  if  a  cloud  had  lifted,  even 
though  she  knew  that  the  shadow  of  death  still 
hung  heavily  over  her  house. 

The  coroner  had  come  early  in  the  evening  and 
viewed  the  remains;  he  had  heard  the  testimony 
of  everyone  who  could  throw  any  light  on  the 
murder;  after  which  we  had  very  solemnly  an- 
nounced his  official  opinion  to  the  effect  "  that  a 

89 


90        THE  SINS  OF  THE  FATHERS 

foul  murder  had  been  committed ;  and  that  there 
was  sufficient  evidence  to  detain  Frank  Bent  on 
a  charge  of  murder."  Permission  was  then  given 
to  remove  the  murdered  man  to  his  own  home. 

Mark  Gibson  had  proved  the  worth  of  the  silent 
man  from  the  moment  he  had  arrived  on  the  scene. 
He  had  taken  his  wife's  advice,  pulled  himself  to- 
gether, and  stepped  into  the  breach  when  every- 
one else  seemed  to  be  at  their  wit's  ends.  He  was 
the  last  to  leave  the  house. 

"  Mrs.  Bent,"  he  said  kindly,  as  he  took  her 
cold  hand  on  parting,  "  I  am  truly  sorry  for  you 
in  this  hour  of  trial.  God  knows  you,  above  all 
women  on  earth,  little  deserve  this  —  cross !  " 

It  was  all  he  could  say,  and  that  nearly  choked 
him  ;  but  he  meant  it  —  every  word  of  it  —  because 
he  knew  the  sterling  worth  of  the  dear  old  soul 
better  than  anyone  else,  outside  of  her  own  family. 
He  dropped  her  hand  and  hurried  out  into  the 
night,  as  if  he  dared  not  wait  for  an  answer.  Her 
eyes  followed  him  distrustfully  as  he  mounted  the 
seat  beside  the  undertaker  and  drove  off. 

A  smile  of  contempt  curled  her  lips.  He  had 
always  been  so  closely  allied  with  the  interest  of 
Richard  Cole,  and  so  ready  to  do  his  bidding,  that 
she  could  hardly  credit  her  own  ears.  Ages 
seemed  to  have  rolled  over  her  head  since  he  had 
spoken  to  her  so  courteously  before.  She  stood  in 
the  doorway  as  one  half  dazed,  and  watched  the 
vehicle  till  it  disappeared  behind  the  jutting  wood- 


AN  UNEXPECTED  CALL  91 

land  in  the  road  below.  The  voice  of  Ruth 
brought  her  back  to  the  present. 

"  Come,  Grandma,  Milly  has  made  such  a  de- 
licious cup  of  chocolate  for  us,  and  insists  on  our 
drinking  it  before  we  retire,"  and  an  arm  stole 
gently  round  her  waist  and  led  her  off  into  the 
dining-room. 

The  household  was  astir  early  in  the  morning  — 
so  early  that  it  seemed  as  if  no  one  had  actually 
gone  to  bed ;  and  judging  from  the  haggard  faces, 
the  night  had  brought  very  little  repose  to  the 
four  anxious  beings  who  composed  the  household. 
Slowly  they  moved  about  the  house,  making  a  pre- 
tense at  doing  something,  yet  accomplishing  noth- 
ing. All  appeared  to  be  oppressed  with  the  same 
thought,  that  they  were  practically  prisoners  — 
being  held  as  important  witnesses  for  the  govern- 
ment against  Frank.  Joe  especially  was  weighed 
down  with  the  burden  of  his  remission.  Like  a 
conscience-stricken  penitent,  he  had  bewailed  his 
negligence  to  Mrs.  Bent,  Ruth,  and  Milly;  but  he 
had  gathered  little  consolation  from  their  sorrow- 
ful attempts  to  comfort  him.  Their  very  kindness 
condemned  him ;  and  he  went  away  more  miserable 
than  before. 

Thus  the  forenoon  dragged  wearily  along.  In 
the  afternoon  Mrs.  Bent  and  Ruth  drove  over  to 
the  jail  to  see  Frank  and  to  carry  him  some  dain- 
ties and  a  few  necessary  articles  of  clothing. 
They  had  just  returned  from  their  visit,  very 


92        THE  SINS  OF  THE  FATHERS 

much  distressed  in  spirits,  when  Mrs.  Gray  and 
her  niece  were  announced. 

Mrs.  Bent  was  wholly  taken  by  surprise.  Mrs. 
Gray  was  the  last  person  whom  she  would  expect 
to  call  under  present  circumstances ;  for  it  seemed 
likely  that  her  husband  would  be  the  presiding 
judge  at  the  coming  hearing  of  the  charges  against 
Frank.  Since  she  had  chosen  to  call,  Mrs.  Bent 
could  not  see  her  way  clear  to  refuse  to  receive  her. 
Accordingly,  the  callers  were  ushered  into  the  par- 
lor, where  Mrs.  Bent  and  Ruth  presently  joined 
them. 

As  an  apology  for  their  calling  at  such  an  in-, 
opportune  time,  Mrs.  Gray  explained,  on  introduc- 
ing her  niece,  that  Miss  Crosby,  having  deferred 
her  going  home  on  Saturday  evening  on  account 
of  the  death  of  Mr.  Cole,  was  obliged  to  leave  on 
the  seven  o'clock  train  that  evening,  and  that  she 
wished  to  meet  Mrs.  Bent  before  leaving. 

"  Yes,  Mrs.  Bent,"  affirmed  Miss  Crosby,  ex- 
tending her  hand  with  a  sad  little  smile  of  womanly 
sympathy,  "  I  did  want  to  meet  you.  You  see  I 
am  not  a  stickler  on  etiquette,  as  my  aunt  is.  I 
waited  all  last  year  for  a  call  from  your  grand- 
daughter, but  it  came  not  —  a  fact  which  some 
folks  might  resent  and  sulk  over,  but  that  is  not 
my  way.  When  I  want  to  meet  people,  why,  I 
just  meet  them.  I  have  heard  so  many  charming 
things  about  you  that  I  really  did  want  to  meet 
you  before  I  went  away ;  so  I  determined  to  brave 
Aunt  Gray's  horror  of  the  unconventional,  and 


93 

make  the  first  call."  Then  she  patted  the  soft, 
withered  hand  which  had  clasped  her  own,  and  still 
held  it,  and  continued :  "  You  have  shown  such 
a  strong,  courageous  spirit  under  the  trying  or- 
deal of  this  terrible  calamity,  which  seems  to  have 
fallen  on  you  with  almost  overwhelming  force,  that 
I  wanted  to  express  to  you  personally  my  sincere 
admiration  as  well  as  my  sympathy ;  and  to  bid 
you  hope  for  the  best.  Somehow,  I  feel  confident 
that  everything  will  come  out  all  right  for  you  and 
yours." 

"  Thank  you,  dear,  for  your  kind  words ;  I 
hardly  deserve  them,"  said  Mrs.  Bent,  dropping 
some  of  the  icy  reserve  with  which  she  had  received 
her  guests.  "  It  is  true  that  your  aunt  and  I  have 
not  been  very  neighborly  of  late  years,"  she  went 
on  after  a  moment's  pause,  unconsciously  retain- 
ing the  hand  of  the  beautiful  girl  in  a  gentle  clasp. 
"  Just  whose  fault  it  is  I  can  not  say.  Perhaps 
it  is  mine,  for  I  do  not  get  around  as  spry  as  I  used 
to  do  when  I  was  younger.  As  for  Ruth,  she  has 
been  away  at  school  so  much  during  the  last  few 
years  that  I  like  to  keep  her  near  me  when  she  is 
at  home.  This  may  be  selfishness  on  my  part." 

There  were  other  and  stronger  reasons  which 
she  might  have  given  had  she  cared  to  go  into  de- 
tails. 

The  facts  were  these:  Judge  Gray's  estate 
joined  her  own  on  the  west.  Their  houses,  how- 
ever, were  situated  nearly  three  miles  apart  cross 
lots,  and  much  further  by  the  road,  which  pre- 


94        THE  SINS  OF  THE  FATHERS 

eluded  any  intercourse  of  a  strictly  neighborly 
character  between  the  two  families.  The  calls, 
therefore,  never  frequent,  had  grown  fewer  and 
more  formal  each  year  until  finally,  after  the  eleva- 
tion of  Henry  Gray  to  the  bench,  they  had  ceased 
altogether.  Meantime,  a  trifling  difference  had 
risen  between  the  two  families  over  Frank.  The 
Grays  had  no  children  of  their  own;  and  the  judge 
used  to  find  fault  about  Frank's  getting  into  his 
orchard  and  climbing  his  apple-trees  after  robins' 
eggs.  Once  the  judge  caught  Robert  Cole  and 
Frank  high-handed.  He  gave  Frank  a  severe 
shaking,  and  also  threatened  him  with  dire  punish- 
ment if  he  ever  caught  him  there  again.  But 
he  let  Robert  go  without  even  a  reprimand. 

At  the  time  this  happened  Ruth  was  only  a  little 
girl ;  but  she  never  quite  forgave  the  j  udge  for 
his  discrimination.  She  would  not  have  cared  so 
much  about  his  shaking  Frank  if  he  had  shaken 
Robert  also.  She  knew  it  was  Robert  who  led 
the  raids  every  time;  and  she  considered  it  an  act 
of  injustice  to  score  the  full  brunt  of  the  offence 
against  Frank. 

"  It  was  a  wicked  shame  for  him  to  make  such 
a  distinction  between  the  boys  !  "  she  had  exclaimed, 
stamping  her  little  foot  in  rage,  while  the  angry 
tears  ran  down  her  flushed  cheeks,  as  she  recounted 
the  occurrence  to  her  grandmother.  "  Robert 
Cole  deserved  a  shaking  just  as  much  as  Frank 
did,  and  Judge  Gray  knew  it;  but  he  didn't  dare 
to  shake  Robert,  because  he  knew  if  he  did,  Mr. 


95 

Cole  would  shake  him  !  And  if  my  father  were  here 
he  wouldn't  dare  to  shake  Frank  either!  He's  a 
coward,  if  he  is  a  judge!  And  when  I  grow  up 
I'll  tell  him  so !  " 

It  had  taken  considerable  of  Grandma's  diplo- 
macy to  appease  her  anger  and  to  soothe  her 
wounded  pride.  After  that  incident,  nothing 
could  induce  Ruth  to  set  foot  on  a  sod  of  ground 
belonging  to  the  Grays.  And  now  she  had  another 
grievance  against  the  house  of  Gray.  This  time 
it  was  Mrs.  Gray  who  fell  under  the  ban  of  her 
resentment.  For  in  some  unaccountable  way,  an 
idea  had  lodged  in  her  stubborn  little  head  that 
Mrs.  Gray  was  in  collusion  with  Mrs.  Cole  and 
Bell  to  catch  Robert  for  her  beautiful  niece.  For 
this  reason,  she  had  shunned  her  on  all  occasions, 
when  she  could  do  so  without  being  actually  rude. 
Even  in  spite  of  Mrs.  Gray's  friendly  show  of 
sympathy  in  this  trying  hour,  Ruth  would  have 
left  her  grandmother  to  meet  her  alone  had  not 
Miss  Crosby  been  with  her. 

As  it  was,  she  hailed  this  visit  with  a  sort  of  in- 
ward satisfaction.  She  wanted  to  see  more  of 
Miss  Crosby,  the  lady  whom  gossip  said  Robert 
Cole  was  to  marry.  Yes,  he  would  surely  marry 
her.  There  was  nothing  else  for  him  to  do  in  the 
light  of  what  had  happened.  Sooner  or  later  the 
object  of  Mr.  Cole's  visit  must  become  common 
property.  Mr.  Cole  had  positively  announced 
Robert's  engagement  to  Miss  Crosby.  Her  grand- 
mother had  told  her  all  about  it ;  and  at  the  same 


96        THE  SINS  OF  THE  FATHERS 

time  had  scathingly  condemned  Robert  for  what 
she  was  pleased  to  call  "  his  supreme  deceitful- 
ness."  So  far  as  she  herself  was  concerned,  the 
past  was  dead.  Nothing  could  ever  again  be  as 
it  had  been.  The  great  love  which  had  become 
part  of  her  very  being,  almost  before  she  was 
aware  of  its  existence,  must  be  crushed  out,  even 
though  the  light  of  her  own  soul  went  out  with  it 
in  the  struggle.  She  had  settled  that  point  as 
she  tossed  on  her  pillow  during  the  long,  weary, 
sleepless  hours  of  the  night.  She  had  carefully 
weighed  the  matter  and  made  her  renouncement. 
It  had  required  no  small  effort  on  her  part  to  make 
the  decision ;  but  once  made,  she  took  up  the  battle 
bravely.  She  had  seen  where  the  murder  of  Rich- 
ard Cole  and  accusation  of  Frank  had  raised  a 
barrier  between  her  and  Robert  Cole  that  nothing 
on  earth  could  ever  remove  from  her  memory. 
And  so  in  the  quiet  hours  of  the  early  dawn,  she 
had  solemnly  renounced  her  idol. 

And  so,  sitting  there,  facing  her  beautiful  rival, 
watching  every  graceful  gesture  and  change  of 
poise,  drinking  in  every  liquid  note  of  that  mellow 
voice,  she  might  have  been  likened  to  a  neophyte 
in  the  hall  of  misery  sitting  before  the  shrine  of  her 
favorite  fetich  gloating  over  her  own  self-torture. 
There  was  no  pang  of  jealousy  to  mar  the  moments 
as  she  thought  of  how  she  had  resigned  Robert 
to  the  love  of  this  fascinating  woman.  Neverthe- 
less, a  dull,  heavy  pain  tugged  at  her  heart ;  and 


AN  UNEXPECTED  CALL  97 

in  spite  of  her  efforts  to  appear  at  ease,  her  lips 
quivered  like  those  of  a  hurt  child  when  ashamed 
to  cry.  It  never  entered  her  innocent  little  head 
to  blame  Robert  for  having  fallen  in  love  with 
Miss  Crosby.  Why  shouldn't  he  fall  in  love  with 
her  and  want  to  marry  her?  And  why  shouldn't 
she  fall  in  love  with  him  and  want  to  marry  him? 
Oh,  it  was  all  right;  just  as  it  should  be;  only! 
This  was  as  far  as  she  got  in  her  reasoning  when 
her  callers  rose  to  go. 

The  call  had  been  short,  scarcely  ten  minutes  in 
length ;  yet  it  seemed  almost  an  eternity  to  Mrs. 
Bent  and  Ruth.  Mrs.  Gray  tactfully  avoided  all 
reference  to  Frank  and  the  shooting;  but  in  doing 
so,  she  was  placed  at  a  disadvantage  in  a  choice 
of  topics.  This  made  her  appear  more  painfully 
formal  than  usual  in  the  eyes  of  Mrs.  Bent,  who 
looked  relieved  when  she  rose  to  take  her  departure. 

On  the  other  hand,  Miss  Crosby  was  as  natural 
and  charming  as  could  be  desired.  While  her 
aunt  sat  prim  and  stiff  on  a  straight-backed  chair, 
Miss  Crosby  lounged  with  a  restful  poise,  on  a 
willow  tete-a-tete,  and  in  her  winsome  way  tried 
to  drive  the  shadows  from  Ruth's  face.  There 
was  nothing  gushing,  nothing  affecting,  nothing 
flippant  about  her.  She  was  just  a  sweet,  lovable 
girl  for  the  time  being,  whose  charms  Ruth  could 
not  resist  for  the  life  of  her. 

Ruth  was  fascinated.  Never  in  her  life  before 
had  she  met  so  enchanting  a  personality;  and  her 


98        THE  SINS  OF  THE  FATHERS 

heart  gave  a  little  qualm  of  despair  as  she  stood 
on  the  veranda  and  watched  her  drive  away  after 
that  ten  minutes'  call. 

"  She  is  a  handsome  woman  and  no  mistake," 
remarked  Mrs.  Bent,  as  her  eyes  followed  the  reced- 
ing carriage  with  manifest  interest. 

"  Yes,"  agreed  Ruth  in  a  choking  voice. 

Mrs.  Bent  turned  quickly  and  cast  a  furtive 
glance  at  her  granddaughter,  and  noted  with  dis- 
may the  pallor  of  her  cheeks  and  the  tightly- 
drawn,  bloodless  lips.  She  spoke  not  a  word.  She 
simply  took  the  suffering  girl  in  her  arms,  and 
caressed  her  tenderly.  This  was  the  last  straw. 
Ruth  knew  that  her  grandmother  understood  at 
last ;  and  bursting  into  tears,  she  sobbed  out  her 
grief  on  that  loving  breast. 

A  streak  of  golden  sunshine,  sifting  through 
the  branches  of  the  overhanging  elms,  fell  aslant 
the  venerable  face  of  Grandma  Bent,  and  brought 
out  in  bold  relief  the  saintly  glory  of  the  woman 
who  could  pause  in  the  depth  of  her  own  suffering 
to  assuage  the  pain  of  youth. 

Mrs.  Bent,  known  the  country  round  as 
"  Grandma  Bent,"  was  a  tall,  stately  woman  on  the 
verge  of  seventy,  every  year  of  which  had  been 
spent  on  this  grand  old  place,  variously  called 
"  Dale  Farm,"  "  Bent  Place,"  or  simple  "  Bent's." 
All  the  joys  and  sorrows  of  her  long  life  had  been 
centered  in  and  around  this  house,  over  which  she 
had  presided,  in  one  capacity  or  another,  for  over 
sixty  years.  She  was  born  here ;  had  been  married 


AN  UNEXPECTED  CALL  99 

here ;  and  her  two  sons  had  also  been  born  here. 
From  here  she  had  followed  mother,  father,  hus- 
band, and  last,  her  youngest  son,  and  had  seen 
each  in  turn  laid  in  the  little  churchyard  below. 

Her  first  great  sorrow  had  come  when  she  was 
scarcely  ten  years  of  age,  in  the  death  of  her 
mother.  Her  father,  having  married  late  in  life, 
was  about  sixty-five  years  of  age  at  the  time  of 
his  wife's  death;  but  owing  to  ill  health,  he  ap- 
peared much  older.  The  shock  of  his  great  loss 
left  him  in  a  state  bordering  on  imbecility ;  and  he 
clung  to  Myra,  his  only  living  comfort,  with  a 
pathetic  helplessness  that  was  painful  to  witness. 
This  imposed  an  onerous  duty  on  the  young  girl, 
—  a  duty  which,  being  of  an  affectionate  nature, 
she  took  up  with  childish  delight  and  performed 
for  fifteen  years  with  unabated  devotion. 

When  she  was  in  her  eighteenth  year,  Richard 
Cole,  or  Dick  Cole,  as  he  was  then  called,  became 
an  ardent  suitor  for  her  hand.  He  was  a  poor 
boy,  an  apprentice  in  the  one  small  machine-shop 
of  which  the  village  boasted  at  that  time.  He  was 
in  his  twenties,  rather  homely  and  slovenly  in  ap- 
pearance, and  of  a  miserly  disposition,  and  had, 
with  all  his  other  drawbacks,  an  ungovernable  tem- 
per. While  he  was  not  the  sort  of  young  man  to 
appeal  to  such  a  loving,  dainty  creature  as  Myra 
Dale,  yet  for  all  that,  there  was  something  attrac- 
tive about  him,  something  that  won  the  confidence 
of  his  associates  and  made  him  master  of  his  own 
fate  before  he  was  thirty. 


100      THE  SINS  OF  THE  FATHERS 

For  various  reasons  Myra  disliked  him.  On  the 
other  hand,  her  father  admired  him,  and  took  a 
deep  and  lasting  interest  in  his  welfare.  He  was  a 
constant  visitor  at  the  farm  and  succeeded  in  mak- 
ing himself  absolutely  necessary  to  the  old  man's 
comfort  and  happiness.  That  he  loved  Myra  Dale 
passionately,  blindly,  and  madly,  he  made  no  pre- 
tense to  hide.  He  bore  the  fact  in  his  face,  in  his 
voice,  in  his  swagger,  when  she  was  near,  as  a  sort 
of  keep-off-t he-grass  warning  to  other  young  men 
who  might  be  tempted  to  try  a  hand  in  the  winning 
of  Myra  Dale;  and  that  she  disliked  him  with  an 
equal  intensity  of  feeling  was  well  known.  This 
made  Dick's  wooing  vastly  more  interesting  to  the 
country  gossips  than  it  might  otherwise  have  been. 
It  served  also  to  rouse  his  indomitable  tenacity ; 
and  he  haunted  her  steps  like  a  shadow. 

As  Mr.  Dale  grew  feebler,  he  grew  fonder  of  the 
young  man,  and  put  forth  his  best  endeavors  to 
induce  Myra  to  accept  him  and  settle  down  in  life. 
He  wanted  to  see  her  married  before  he  passed 
away.  It  could  not  be,  she  had  told  them  both 
over  and  over  again.  Still  they  persisted,  each  in 
his  own  way,  in  pressing  the  suit  until  Myra  grew 
to  detest  the  young  man  from  the  very  depths  of 
her  soul.  His  presence  acted  as  an  irritant  on 
her,  and  at  last  she  said  some  very  sharp  things 
to  him. 

Myra  did  not  like  the  influence  he  seemed  to 
have  gained  over  her  father,  and  did  her  best  to 


AN  UNEXPECTED  CALL  101 

counteract  it.  But  it  was  too  late  ere  she  began; 
and  rather  than  aggravate  her  father's  pettish- 
ness  by  opposing  him  in  this  matter,  she  contented 
herself  by  simply  quitting  the  room  when  Dick 
entered,  and  thus  putting  the  stamp  of  her  dis- 
approval on  his  visits. 

But  this  did  not  seem  to  faze  him  in  the  least. 
He  continued  to  call  until  the  death  of  her  father. 
He  called  once  after,  and  only  once;  and  when  he 
left,  he  made  his  threat  "  never  to  enter  her  door 
again  until  he  came  to  humble  her  haughty  head." 
She  only  laughed  at  the  threat  and  congratulated 
herself  that  she  had  won  out  in  the  contest. 

After  that  she  took  up  the  burden  of  settling 
up  her  father's  somewhat  tangled  affairs.  It  was 
then  she  learned  what  Dick's  fawning  friendship 
for  her  father  meant.  She  knew  he  had  borrowed 
money  from  her  father  to  secure  a  patent,  money 
which  he  had  never  returned;  but  she  was  unpre- 
pared for  the  fact  that  he  had  also  procured  deeds 
from  her  father  to  acres  of  the  best  and  most 
valuable  lands  of  Dale  Farm. 

She  knew  little  about  business  and  less  about 
law,  for  her  father  had  kept  his  business  matters 
to  himself  up  to  the  last  moment  of  his  life.  Still 
she  felt  such  a  transaction  could  not  be  a  square 
deal.  She  consulted  Judge  Gray,  who  was  at  that 
time  a  struggling  young  attorney  in  the  village; 
and  he  suavely  advised  her  to  let  the  matter  rest, 
explaining  that  Richard  Cole's  title  was  too  secure 


102      THE  SINS  OF  THE  FATHERS 

to  be  disturbed.  Years  after,  she  learned  to  her 
chagrin  that  it  was  Henry  Gray  himself  who  had 
drawn  up  the  deeds. 

She  was  nearly  thirty  when  she  married  John 
Bent  and  for  a  few  years  she  lived  an  ideal  life. 
Then  her  husband  died  and  left  her  with  their  two 
sons  to  bring  up  and  educate.  They  grew  to 
young  manhood  under  her  care  and  guidance  and 
went  forth  from  the  home  roof  to  make  homes  for 
themselves.  And  again  she  found  herself  alone  on 
the  old  place.  But  a  charm  still  clung  to  it ;  a 
charm  that  could  not  be  found  in  any  other  spot 
on  earth ;  a  charm  that  drew  the  wanderers  back 
to  its  protecting  shelter  in  their  time  of  sorest 
need. 

It  was  here  that  the  younger  son  came  home 
to  die ;  and  it  was  here  the  older  one  had  brought 
his  two  motherless  children,  Frank  and  Ruth, 
after  the  death  of  his  wife.  Frank  was  twelve, 
and  Ruth  seven,  when  John  brought  them  home  to 
his  mother.  Mrs.  Bent  took  them  at  once  to  her 
loving  heart ;  and  it  was  through  these  two  wor- 
shipping children  that  she  gained  the  sobriquet 
of  "  Grandma  Bent." 

Meantime,  Richard  Cole  too  had  married  and 
two  children,  Robert  and  Isabell,  had  come  to 
brighten  his  home.  When  the  Bent  children  came 
to  the  Bent  Place,  Mrs.  Cole  had  welcomed  them 
to  the  neighborhood  as  fitting  companions  for  her 
two  children.  She  had  never  heard  of  her  hus- 
band's early  infatuation  for  her  stately  neighbor, 


AN  UNEXPECTED  CALL  103 

nor  had  she  heard  of  his  business  dealings  with 
old  Mr.  Dale.  She  had  met  Mrs.  Bent  at  church 
and  had  always  heard  her  spoken  of  as  a  woman 
of  strong  character  and  lofty  ideals;  beyond  this, 
she  never  inquired.  She  often  wondered,  how- 
ever, why  Mrs.  Bent  did  not  call  on  her;  but  after 
awhile,  even  this  ceased  to  annoy  her. 

The  children  became  almost  inseparable.  Their 
homes  seemed  to  possess  a  sort  of  interchangeable 
easement,  by  the  way  they  romped  from  one  house 
to  the  other ;  and  Mrs.  Bent  was  "  Grandma  "  to 
all  four.  They  attended  the  same  school,  a  small 
private  academy  in  the  adjoining  town,  going  to 
and  fro  on  the  train  every  day.  Those  were  the 
days  of  happy  childhood,  which  passed  all  too 
rapidly  for  those  most  concerned.  The  years  of 
youth  and  maidenhood  came  on  apace  and  dawned 
under  pleasant  auspices  for  these  four  young  be- 
ings. 

Frank  Bent  was  two  years  older  than  Robert 
Cole.  A  big,  free,  open-hearted  lad  he  was,  who 
would  give  his  coat  to  any  ragged  urchin  in  the 
village  and  go  without  himself.  Very  early  in  his 
school  days  Frank  acquired  a  taste  for  public 
speaking.  He  was  a  ravenous  reader  and  a  keen 
observer;  and  as  he  grew  older,  he  developed 
rather  radical  ideas  on  many  and  various  ques- 
tions. He  was  about  eighteen  when  he  began  to 
frequent  the  homes  of  the  workmen  in  the  village 
and  take  an  interest  in  the  men  and  boys.  He 
held  meetings  among  them  and  propagated  his 


104.      THE  SINS  OF  THE  FATHERS 

ideas  of  the  rights  and  wrongs  of  society  right  and 
left;  and  finally  went  so  far  as  to  take  Mr.  Cole 
himself  to  task  for  allowing  certain  conditions  to 
exist  in  the  village. 

This  brought  down  on  his  head  the  wrath  of 
Mr.  Cole  who,  up  to  that  time,  had  been  gra- 
ciously indulgent  to  the  grandchildren  of  Myra 
Dale,  as  he  persisted  in  calling  Mrs.  Bent.  After 
this  bit  of  presumption  on  the  part  of  the  young 
reformer,  Frank  very  soon  found  himself  persona 
non  grata,  not  only  at  Oakwood,  the  residence  of 
the  Coles,  which  had  been  his  second  home  for  so 
many  years,  but  also  in  the  village,  where  Richard 
Cole's  word  was  law  absolutely. 

Ruth  was  always  loyal  to  her  brother.  Where 
he  could  not  go,  she  would  not ;  consequently,  there 
was  a  sudden  cessation  of  the  frolicsome  days 
between  Oakwood  and  the  Dale  Farm. 

When  Mr.  Bent  heard  of  the  episode  between 
Mr.  Cole  and  Frank,  he  at  once  decided  that  he 
himself  should  have  charge  of  the  youth's  future 
education.  In  accordance  with  this  decision, 
Frank  was  sent  for.  On  the  morning  of  his  de- 
parture for  his  new  home,  Frank  had  a  stolen  in- 
terview with  Robert  and  Bell  Cole,  and  tearful 
good-bys  were  spoken  amid  vows  of  eternal  friend- 
ship. Then  he  wandered  about,  bidding  good-by 
to  the  streams,  the  woods,  and  to  everything  most 
dear  to  his  loving  young  heart  in  and  about  the 
place.  When  he  kissed  Ruth  and  his  grandmother 
for  the  last  time,  as  the  train  pulled  up  at  the 


AN  UNEXPECTED  CALL  105 

grimy  little  station,  it  was  with  a  sense  of  utter 
loneliness  rankling  in  his  heart.  He  boarded  the 
train  and  departed  in  a  somewhat  rebellious  mood 
to  begin  his  new  life. 

That  was  six  years  ago.  But  the  people  had 
not  forgotten  the  incidents  leading  up  to  Frank's 
going  away ;  or,  if  they  had  forgotten  them,  the 
foul  murder  of  Richard  Cole  on  the  very  day  of 
the  young  man's  return  quickly  revived  the  old 
story  with  new  significance.  And  this  was  what 
Mrs.  Bent  most  feared. 

After  Frank's  departure  Ruth  found  life  on  the 
farm  rather  lonesome.  The  light  of  the  place 
seemed  to  have  gone  with  him.  But  she  loved  her 
grandmother  with  such  an  idolatrous  love  that  she 
never  complained.  The  following  year  Ruth  went 
off  to  boarding  school ;  and  as  Bell  Cole  attended 
the  same  school,  the  two  girls  very  naturally  picked 
up  the  broken  threads  of  their  old  friendship,  and, 
in  the  language  of  the  school,  became  quite 
chummy. 

It  was  during  their  second  year  at  school  that 
Bell  learned  of  Robert's  growing  attachment  for 
Ruth.  Then  the  tragedy  of  Robert's  life  began. 
He  was  forbidden  to  visit  the  Bent  homestead,  or 
to  hold  any  communications  with  any  member  of 
the  family.  Being  a  dutiful  son,  Robert  never 
thought  of  disobeying  the  injunction  of  his  father; 
and  for  four  years  he  held  aloof  from  the  dearest 
friends  of  his  life. 

Meanwhile,  Bell  and  her  mother  laid  plans  of 


106      THE  SINS  OF  THE  FATHERS 

their  own  for  Robert.  Bell  had  left  school  at  the 
close  of  her  second  year,  fully  equipped  for  her 
duties  in  her  social  world.  Robert  had  entered 
Harvard  and  Mr.  Cole  had  taken  a  house  in  Bos- 
ton, so  that  there  should  be  no  break  in  the  family 
circle  while  Robert  was  attending  college.  Dur- 
ing the  winter  months  Mrs.  Cole  and  Bell  made 
quite  a  stir  in  society ;  they  entertained  lavishly, 
and  were  entertained  in  return ;  and  during  the 
summer  months  Oakwood  held  open  doors,  and  was 
seldom  free  of  visitors. 

Robert  was  in  constant  demand  as  an  escort 
when  they  went  abroad,  or  as  an  entertainer  when 
they  stayed  at  home.  He  submitted  gracefully 
to  their  dictates,  and  all  went  well  until  one  morn- 
ing, several  weeks  prior  to  that  eventful  day  of 
his  father's  tragic  death,  he  happened  to  stumble 
across  Ruth  Bent  sitting  on  the  bank  of  the  river, 
fishing.  At  sight  of  her,  the  old  boyish  love  welled 
in  his  heart ;  and  in  spite  of  her  cool  greeting,  his 
father's  injunction,  or  Bell's  and  his  mother's 
plans,  he  sat  down  beside  her  and  watched  her 
fish. 

At  first,  his  efforts  at  conversation  were  some- 
what strained;  but  after  awhile  he  grew  bolder, 
and  then  something  of  their  childhood's  freedom 
and  confidence  sprang  up  between  them. 

After  this  meeting,  he  began  to  take  great  in- 
terest in  fishing, —  a  sport  for  which  he  had  had 
no  inclination  as  a  boy,  but  for  which  he  had  sud- 
denly developed  a  mania.  Every  clear  day,  com- 


AN  UNEXPECTED  CALL  107 

pany  or  no  company  at  the  house,  he  would  paddle 
up  the  river  to  the  oak  on  the  edge  of  the  Bent 
estate,  simply  to  fish.  If  Ruth  was  there  before 
him,  well  and  good ;  if  not,  he  would  wait  her  com- 
ing, for  he  knew  she  would  come,  because  she  had 
taken  it  upon  herself  to  supply  Grandma's  table 
with  fresh  fish.  She  had  told  him  so  on  the  day  of 
their  first  meeting,  and  had  also  told  him  her  hours 
for  fishing.  Thus  he  was  able  to  plan  his  excur- 
sions so  as  to  join  her  in  the  sport. 

Ah,  what  happy  days  those  were !  They  would 
sit  and  fish  and  chat  like  two  contented  children 
until  she  had  caught  her  usual  supply.  Then  he 
would  walk  through  the  pasture  with  her  as  far  as 
the  stone  wall.  Here  he  would  stand  and  watch 
her  up  the  hill,  and  dream  his  daydreams,  and  won- 
der what  life  would  be  to  him  without  her. 

But  the  lynx-eyed  Bell  soon  learned  of  these 
clandestine  meetings;  and  not  wishing  to  rouse 
her  father's  anger  against  Robert  just  at  this 
time,  she  did  the  next  best  thing  in  her  power  to 
put  a  stop  to  the  meetings.  She  informed  Grand- 
ma Bent,  who  very  quickly  set  a  quietus  on  her 
fears  by  telling  her  that  Ruth  had  too  much  sense 
to  trouble  her  head  about  such  a  coxcomb  as 
Robert  Cole  had  developed  into.  Nevertheless, 
Grandma  Bent  took  the  precaution  to  warn  Ruth ; 
and  thereafter,  when  Ruth  went  fishing,  or  berry- 
ing, or  to  the  village  on  errands,  Milly  was  her 
inseparable  shadow.  And  thus  matters  stood  on 
that  eventful  day  of  Richard  Cole's  tragic  death. 


CHAPTER  VII 
NELL  STANTON 

Tuesday  came  in  the  natural  course  of  time, 
though  to  some  of  our  friends  it  had  seemed  as  if 
the  very  sun  had  stood  still  in  the  heavens,  so 
slowly  did  the  moments  drag  along  during  the 
interval  between  the  death  of  Richard  Cole  and 
the  hour  set  for  his  burial.  In  the  village,  how- 
ever, there  had  been  no  lagging  of  time ;  for  rumors 
and  counter-rumors  had  kept  the  villagers  on  the 
qui  vive  from  the  rising  to  the  setting  of  the  sun, 
and  long  after. 

Early  in  the  forenoon  on  that  memorable  Tues- 
day, after  a  short  private  service  at  his  late  home, 
the  body  of  Richard  Cole  was  borne  to  the  little 
church  on  the  verge  of  the  village,  where  it  lay  in 
state  till  the  hour  of  the  public  obsequies  in  the 
afternoon.  This  was  done  to  afford  the  workmen 
an  opportunity  to  view  for  the  last  time  the  face 
of  their  dead  employer;  and  also  to  allow  them 
the  privilege  to  attend  the  services  if  they  so 
desired. 

It  was  natural  for  the  family  to  assume  that  the 
workmen  would  wish  to  pay  a  last  sad  tribute  of 

respect  to  the  memory  of  him   in  whose  employ 
108 


NELL  STANTON  109 

many  of  them  had  spent  the  greater  part  of  their 
lives ;  and  the  manner  in  which  the  villagers  flocked 
to  avail  themselves  of  this  privilege  justified  the 
assumption. 

All  morning  a  steady  stream  of  solemn  faced 
men,  women,  and  children  poured  in  and  out  of 
the  church,  and  then  hung  about  the  outside  in 
groups,  discussing  the  sad  affair  and  speculating 
on  the  probable  outcome  of  Frank  Bent's  hearing. 
There  was  considerable  sympathy  expressed  for 
Frank,  and  many  hoped  that  he  could  clear  him- 
self, though  they  shook  their  heads  doubtfully. 
Long  before  the  hour  set  for  the  service,  the  church 
was  crowded  to  its  full  capacity,  and  still  there 
were  many  unable  to  gain  admittance. 

The  carriages  containing  the  family  and  the 
specially  invited  friends  had  rounded  into  the 
square  and  were  moving  slowly  towards  the  church. 
All  eyes  were  turned  in  the  direction  of  the  car- 
riages and  did  not  see  the  approach  from  the  op- 
posite point  of  a  tall,  heavily  veiled  woman, 
dressed  in  deep  mourning.  She  joined  the  on- 
lookers just  as  the  ushers  came  down  the  steps 
to  make  a  passageway  for  the  mourners. 

The  crowd  parted  right  and  left  and  stood  in 
awed  silence  as  the  widow  with  bowed  head,  cling- 
ing to  Robert's  arm  on  one  side  and  to  Bell's  on 
the  other,  passed  by  and  up  into  the  church.  The 
occupants  of  the  last  carriage  had  alighted  and 
were  walking  solemnly  between  the  files  of  that 
curious  throng,  when  the  woman  in  question  pushed 


110      THE  SINS  OF  THE  FATHERS 

her  way  into  the  opening  and  fell  in  directly  be- 
hind the  mourners,  and  moved  with  a  half  solemn, 
half  defiant  air  up  the  steps  and  into  the  church. 

"  Nell  Stanton !  "  somebody  gasped. 

If  she  heard  the  ejaculation,  she  deigned  not  to 
notice  it;  for  she  pressed  on  with  a  callous  in- 
difference to  aught  they  might  say,  think,  or  look. 

The  people  stood  as  if  rooted  to  the  spot,  while 
all  eyes  followed  her  with  looks  of  mingled  aston- 
ishment, anger,  pity,  or  disgust,  according  to  their 
individual  ways  of  looking  at  life.  When  she  dis- 
appeared within  the  vestibule,  the  crowd  drew  a 
long  breath  and  looked  at  each  other  in  silence. 

Meanwhile,  the  object  of  their  questioning 
glances,  nothing  daunted  by  the  craning  of  necks, 
kept  close  in  the  rear  of  the  mourners.  Down  the 
aisle  she  passed,  and  slipped  into  the  only  va- 
cant seat  among  the  friends  of  the  family,  as  if 
she  were  there  by  some  right  or  special  privilege. 
In  the  semi-darkness  pervading  the  church  she  was 
not  recognized  until  after  she  had  taken  her  seat 
and  had  thrown  back  her  veil,  and  then  only  by 
those  nearest  to  her.  Her  presence,  however, 
could  not  remain  a  secret  very  long.  Judging 
from  the  sly  nudges,  whispers,  and  glances  which 
were  bandied  from  one  to  another  after  she  had 
raised  her  veil,  it  seemed  as  if  the  people  had  been 
expecting  her;  and  presently,  many  eyes  were 
focused  upon  her  face,  much  to  the  annoyance 
of  Mark  Gibson,  who  sat  immediately  behind  her. 


As  for  her,  she  sat  like  a  statue  during  the  en- 
tire service,  gazing  straight  ahead  at  the  casket 
with  a  look  of  melancholy,  indescribable  in  its 
pathos,  in  the  depths  of  her  tearless,  dark  eyes. 

The  benediction  had  been  pronounced.  The 
larger  part  of  the  congregation  had  passed  out 
of  the  church,  and  were  wending  their  way  to  the 
graveyard  in  the  rear.  The  invited  guests  of  the 
family  had  also  taken  a  last  look  at  the  face  of 
him  whom  they  had  loved  and  respected  as  friend 
or  business  associate,  and  were  passing  slowly 
down  the  aisle  to  the  vestibule,  where  they  were 
to  wait  till  the  casket  should  be  closed  and  borne 
out,  when  they  were  to  take  their  places  in  the 
solemn  procession  which  was  to  follow  the  re- 
mains to  their  last  resting  place.  Only  the  fam- 
ily, the  bearers,  the  ushers,  Mark  Gibson,  and 
Nell  Stanton  remained. 

Nell  had  risen  when  the  close  friends  of  the 
deceased  had  been  called,  and  would  have  followed 
as  one  of  them,  but  ere  she  could  take  a  step,  she 
had  been  forced  back  into  her  seat  by  a  restrain- 
ing hand  that  was  laid  heavily  on  her  shoulder 
from  across  the  pew  behind  her.  She  turned  her 
head  slightly  and  met  the  cold,  penetrating  gaze 
of  Mark  Gibson.  She  heeded  the  silent  warning 
and  kept  her  seat. 

But  when  the  chief  usher  raised  a  significant 
finger  to  Robert  Cole  and  the  family  rose,  Nell 
rose  with  a  defiant  air,  and  angrily  shaking  off 


THE  SINS  OF  THE  FATHERS 

the  hand  which  Mark  had  again  laid  on  her  shoul- 
der, she  glided  swiftly  out  of  the  pew  and  down 
the  aisle  towards  the  bier. 

For  a  second  only  Mark  hesitated;  then  rising 
softly,  he  grimly  followed  the  angry  woman. 
Nell  reached  the  casket  just  as  Robert  and  Bell 
were  leading  their  almost  fainting  mother  away. 
She  paused  as  they  brushed  past  her,  and  a  visible 
shudder  passed  over  her  frame.  It  was  evident 
her  overweening  assurance  was  deserting  her,  for 
her  face  had  grown  deathly  white  and  passive  as 
if  chiseled  from  a  bit  of  flawless  marble.  She 
approached  the  bier  and  stood  for  a  moment  gaz- 
ing silently  into  the  casket.  Then  her  pent  up 
feelings  gave  way,  and  she  sobbed  audibly.  She 
leaned  forward,  as  if  to  press  the  cold,  silent  lips 
of  the  dead ;  but  ere  she  could  carry  out  her  pur- 
pose, Mark  Gibson  had  reached  her  side,  thrust 
his  arm  between  her  and  the  casket,  and  forced 
her  back. 

"  For  God's  sake,  don't  make  a  show  of  your- 
self ! "  he  breathed,  compelling  her  to  move  on 
by  the  sheer  power  of  his  own  steady  advance, 
as  he  half  supported,  half  pushed  her  tottering 
form  along. 

Ere  they  had  taken  a  half  dozen  steps,  she  was 
master  of  her  emotions.  With  an  indignant  little 
flourish  she  shook  herself  free  of  Mark's  guiding 
arm,  drew  down  her  veil,  and  with  a  firm,  haughty 
step  brushed  past  the  group  of  mourners,  and 
disappeared  through  the  vestry  door. 


NELL  STANTON  113 

Robert  Cole  was  the  only  member  of  the  family 
who  saw  Mark's  little  by-play;  and  he  wondered 
who  the  woman  was.  But  in  the  rush  of  events 
of  the  next  week,  the  scene  slipped  his  memory 
and  was  not  recalled  for  over  two  years,  when  it 
returned  with  wonderful  vividness. 

Aside  from  this  little  incident  in  the  church, 
nothing  occurred  to  break  the  perfect  carrying 
out  of  Mark  Gibson's  well-laid  plans.  The  fu- 
neral train  passed  out  of  the  church  and  into 
the  cool  fragrance  of  the  shady  yard  at  the  rear, 
where  Richard  Cole  was  laid  beside  his  kin  with 
all  the  pomp  and  honors  befitting  a  man  of  his 
station  and  wealth.  There  were  tears  and  lamen- 
tations over  him,  for  he  was  loved  by  many. 
There  were  words  of  genuine  praise,  eulogistic  in 
the  highest  degree,  for  he  was  a  business  man 
of  recognized  sterling  ability,  and  was  valued  for 
the  power  he  could  wield  in  the  business  world. 
Besides,  those  who  spoke  knew  only  the  best  side 
of  the  man,  the  side  that  Richard  Cole  presented 
for  the  inspection  of  the  world  into  which  he  had 
glided  during  the  later  years  of  his  life  when  suc- 
cess had  crowned  his  efforts  in  his  reach  for 
wealth,  and  his  highest  ambitions  were  in  a  fair 
way  of  being  realized.  Moreover,  his  tragic 
death  had  thrown  a  sort  of  halo  about  him  which 
silenced,  for  the  time  being,  the  tongues  of  the 
chronic  busybodies.  But  silence  from  some  quar- 
ters often  speaks  a  louder  condemnation  than 
words,  as  a  calm  precedes  a  storm.  And  there 


114      THE  SINS  OF  THE  FATHERS 

was  in  some  quarters  an  ominous  silence  as  to  the 
moral  worth  of  the  man. 

However,  no  man  is  quite  so  bad  as  his  enemies 
paint  him,  nor  yet  so  good  as  his  friends  would 
have  us  believe  him  to  be.  And  in  justice  to  the 
memory  of  Richard  Cole,  be  it  said  that  he  was 
neither  a  saint  nor  a  devil.  He  was  simply  a 
man,  born  with  a  fair  balance  of  the  common  vir- 
tues and  vices  of  his  sex,  chief  among  the  vices 
being  an  insatiable  greed  for  getting  and  hoard- 
ing money ;  and  this  became  the  dominating  fac- 
tor of  his  life  up  to  the  very  moment  of  his  un- 
fortunate death.  Wealth  was  his  god,  and  he 
worshipped  it  with  a  power  which  he  wielded  to 
his  own  advantage  at  all  times. 

That  he  had  been  successful  in  all  of  his  un- 
dertakings was  due  to  his  natural  shrewdness  and 
tenacity  of  purpose.  He  would  have  flipped  his 
fingers  in  the  face  of  anyone  who  had  dared  to 
hint  that  luck  played  any  part  in  the  game  for 
him.  This  success  had  enhanced  his  innate  self- 
conceit,  and  puffed  him  up  with  his  own  impor- 
tance far  beyond  his  merits. 

He  had  made  mistakes,  grievous  mistakes, — 
mistakes  that  caused  him  no  little  annoyance 
during  his  later  life, —  mistakes  that  he  felt  him- 
self powerless  to  rectify  without  disgracing  his 
family  and  exposing  himself  to  the  open  contumely 
of  his  dearest  friends.  This  he  had  not  the  cour- 
age to  do.  Position,  respect,  honor,  love  had  all 
been  won  at  too  great  a  price  to  be  sacrificed  as 


NELL  STANTON  115 

an  atonement  for  the  mistakes  of  youth.  So  he 
went  on  year  after  year,  rejoicing  at  his  continual 
successes  in  keeping  the  gossips  at  bay. 

It  is  hard  to  measure  accurately  the  good  by 
comparison  with  the  evil  men  do,  consciously  or 
unconsciously,  in  a  lifetime  devoted  to  an  ambi- 
tious grasping  of  power.  All  men  of  power  are 
tyrants.  Whether  his  chosen  field  of  activity  be 
social,  political,  industrial,  or  religious,  only  let 
a  man  feel  his  power  to  dominate;  let  him  exert 
that  power  with  the  self-consciousness  it  usually 
excites,  and  at  once  he  becomes  a  tyrant,  petty 
or  strong,  according  to  the  make-up  of  the  man. 
Few  men  will  admit  this ;  nevertheless,  the  fact 
remains. 

It  was  growing  dusk  when  Mark  Gibson,  weary 
almost  to  exhaustion,  reached  his  own  gate  on  the 
day  of  the  funeral.  He  had  had  a  strenuous  time 
of  it  for  the  last  three  days  and  nights.  Owing 
to  his  confidential  relation  to  Mr.  Cole,  the  whole 
family  seemed  to  turn  to  him  in  their  hour  of  ex- 
tremity, and  to  throw  on  him  the  responsibility 
not  only  of  the  planning  and  carrying  through 
of  the  obsequies,  but  also  of  the  shying  off  of  the 
morbidly  curious  from  obtruding  their  possibly 
well-meant,  but  harassing,  sympathy  on  the  mem- 
bers of  the  bereaved  family. 

A  soft  stillness  hung  over  the  village,  a  stillness 
befitting  the  close  of  a  day  of  gloom.  Mark 
paused  at  the  gate  and  raised  his  eyes  to  the  dis- 
solving lights  in  the  sky  above  the  hills  in  the 


116      THE  SINS  OF  THE  FATHERS 

west.  Under  the  shifting  lights  of  the  twilight 
his  face  looked  a  trifle  sallower  and  his  eyes  a 
shade  more  faded  than  usual.  The  stoop  in  his 
shoulders,  too,  appeared  more  pronounced;  and 
a  weary,  listless  air  marked  his  every  movement. 
Taken  altogether,  he  seemed  to  have  aged  twenty 
years  since  we  saw  him  in  his  office  on  Saturday 
noon. 

He  took  off  his  hat  so  that  the  dew-laden 
breezes  might  blow  unimpeded  over  his  throbbing 
temples ;  then  folding  his  arms  across  the  railing 
of  the  gate,  he  leaned  heavily  upon  them  and  re- 
signed himself  to  the  soothing  influence  of  the 
evening  hush. 

"  Feel  pretty  well  fagged  out,  I  suppose  ? 
Well,  I  don't  wonder  at  it;  for  you've  done  the 
work  of  three  men  for  the  last  twenty-four  hours, 
to  my  knowledge." 

The  voice  startled  him  and  brought  him  back 
to  earth  with  a  disagreeable  thud.  Up  to  that 
instant  he  had  fancied  himself  alone.  The  voice, 
with  its  well-modulated  mockery  coming  out  of 
the  misty  silence  around  him,  struck  a  chill 
to  the  very  marrow  of  his  bones.  He  turned 
sharply  and  faced  the  speaker  with  an  ugly 
scowl. 

"Well?"  he  jerked  out  nervously  when  he 
could  command  his  voice. 

"Well?"  she  repeated,  with  a  mocking  laugh. 
"  You  see  I  did  not  take  your  advice." 

"  I  see."     His  tone  was  sharp ;  but  it  did  not 


NELL  STANTON  117 

seem  to  affect  her  in  the  least.  "  Well !  and  what 
do  you  want?  " 

"  What  is  due  me  and  mine,"  she  answered 
calmly. 

He  peered  about  into  the  shadows  as  if  to  make 
sure  they  were  alone  ere  he  spoke.  Having  con- 
vinced himself  that  the  coast  was  clear,  he  asked 
slowly, 

"And  what  may  that  be?" 

"  As  if  you  didn't  know !  "  she  sneered.  There 
was  an  ugly  light  gathering  in  her  coal-black 
eyes. 

"  I  fear  I  must  plead  ignorance,"  he  drawled 
with  exasperating  coolness. 

"  Come,  Mark,  we  may  as  well  understand  each 
other  first  as  last.  I  want  my  allowance,  which 
is  several  months  overdue."  She  tossed  her  head 
with  a  defiant  air  and  Mark  caught  the  ugly  glint 
in  her  beautiful  black  eyes.  There  was  something 
dangerously  determined  about  her  whole  attitude 
which  said  louder  than  words :  "  Beware  of  the 
serpent !  " 

Mark,  however,  was  not  in  the  humor  to  be 
browbeaten  into  doing  anything  against  his  own 
sweet  will.  He  remained  silent  for  a  full  minute, 
eying  her  closely  the  while.. 

"  But  you  broke  your  agreement  in  allowing 
that  brat  to  come  back  to  the  village." 

His  words  seemed  to  sting  her,  for  she  bent  for- 
ward with  clenched  hands  as  though  she  would 
spring  at  him. 


118      THE  SINS  OF  THE  FATHERS 

"  You  evidently  forget  that  he  is  twenty-two, 
and  no  longer  under  my  control.  He  has  a  mind 
of  his  own,  too,  and  a  temper  not  unlike  his 
father's.  He  is  here  to  stay  this  time ;  so  you 
must  make  the  best  of  it." 

"  You  can  control  your  own  movements, 
though,"  he  slurred ;  "  why  are  you  here  ?  " 

"  Because  I  was  sent  for." 

"By  whom?" 

"  My  uncle  Jack." 

"When?" 

"  Saturday  night." 

"  For  what  purpose?  "  His  voice  had  grown 
very  harsh. 

"Good  God!  have  you  not  heard?  Oh,  I  for- 
got !  Of  course  you  have  not  heard  about  my 
mother;  you  have  been  too  deeply  engrossed  in 
other  matters."  Her  voice  trembled  and  she 
paused  to  check  the  sob  that  rose  in  her  throat. 

"  No  I  haven't  heard;  what  is  it?  "  He  looked 
at  her  keenly. 

"  She  had  a  shock  Saturday  afternoon  when 
my  Dick  told  her  of  the  murder.  She  just 
dropped  on  the  floor  in  a  heap  and  never  regained 
consciousness.  She  died  this  morning  about  six." 
She  wiped  a  tear  from  her  eye.  "  Now  you  can 
understand,"  she  went  on  after  a  moment's  pause, 
"  why  I  am  here.  Perhaps  you  can  understand 
also  why  I  shall  remain  for  the  present,  and  why 
I  want  my  allowance." 


NELL  STANTON  119 

"  But  you  broke  your  agreement ;  besides,  he 
is  dead ;  and  death  abrogates  the  agreement."  He 
looked  nervously  about  him  as  he  spoke. 

"  Not  this  agreement !  "  she  said  with  a  very 
determined  air. 

"  Yes,  this  agreement !  "  he  answered  firmly. 

"  What  do  you  take  me  for,  a  fool  ?  If  you 
do,  cut  it  out?  I  haven't  been  up  against  the 
rough  edges  of  the  world  for  twenty-three  years 
without  learning  a  point  or  two  about  bringing 
obstinate  people  to  terms.  What  provision  has 
he  made  for  the  future?  " 

"  None  that  I  know  of." 

"  And  you  would  be  likely  to  know  ?  " 

"  I  would." 

"  In  that  case,  what  would  you  advise  me  to  do? 
Shall  I  appeal  to  Robert  or  Bell?  Perhaps  you 
would  suggest  the  Missus? "  Her  words  were 
wickedly  calculating,  and  set  Mark's  teeth  on 
edge. 

"For  God's  sake,  Nell,  have  you  no  heart?" 
The  words  came  from  his  lips  like  a  breath  of 
agony. 

She  laughed  a  little  fiendish  laugh,  and  taking 
a  step  nearer,  almost  hissed  in  his  ear, 

"  You  do  well  to  ask  such  a  question,  you  who 
know  how  I  have  been  made  to  suffer  that  others 
might  revel  in  peace  and  luxury.  But  one  may 
tire  of  playing  the  sacrificial  lamb  — " 

"  Of   course,"   he  broke   in   with   exasperating 


120      THE  SINS  OF  THE  FATHERS 

irony,  "  and  you  have  played  the  lambkin  so  ad- 
mirably all  these  years !  "  A  low,  brutal  laugh 
issued  from  between  his  distorted  lips. 

"  Come,  Mark,  I  am  older  than  I  was  twenty- 
three  years  ago ;  I  am  no  longer  a  child  to  be 
trifled  with,"  she  said  in  cold,  set  tones.  And 
Mark,  catching  the  dangerous  flash  in  her  eyes 
as  she  tossed  her  head  back  in  angry  scorn,  in- 
wardly admitted  the  truth  of  her  words ;  though 
outwardly  he  maintained  the  same  impenetrable 
front.  "  I  know  what  belongs  to  me  and  I  mean 
to  have  it  or  there  will  be  hell  to  play.  Now  what 
do  you  propose  to  do?  " 

"  Nothing !  There  is  nothing  I  can  do ! "  he 
said  with  a  negative  shake  of  his  head. 

"  Then  I  know  what  I  can  do !  "  she  said  de- 
cisively, turning  on  her  heel  as  if  to  go. 

He  caught  her  arm,  and  held  her  in  a  vice-like 
grasp. 

"What  do  you  mean?"  he  asked  hoarsely. 

"  I  mean  to  expose  the  whole  rotten  business ! " 
she  exclaimed  angrily,  trying  to  shake  his  hand 
off  her  arm. 

"  Just  a  moment,  Nell,"  he  said  hoarsely. 
"  How  much  do  you  want  ?  " 

"  All  that's  coming  to  me."  A  gleam  of  cun- 
ning shot  into  her  eyes  and  marred  the  lingering 
remnants  of  beauty  of  her  face. 

"  How  much  is  that  ?  "  he  asked  casually. 

"  You  ought  to  know ;  you  are  the  banker," 


NELL  STANTON  121 

"  But  I  don't  know ;  and  I  am  the  banker  no 
longer."  Mark  was  losing  his  patience.  She 
saw  the  frown  gathering  on  his  face,  and  knowing 
the  danger  of  pressing  him  too  far,  she  answered 
in  a  more  conciliatory  tone, 

"  I  think  I  could  get  along  with  a  hundred." 

"  I  haven't  got  so  much  money  with  me.  I  can 
let  you  have  fifty."  He  took  out  his  wallet  as 
he  spoke,  and  counted  out  the  money,  wondering 
the  while  whether  he  was  doing  a  wise  thing.  But 
he  was  tired  and  wanted  to  be  rid  of  her,  and  there 
appeared  nothing  else  for  him  to  do. 

"  That  will  do  for  the  present,"  she  said  calmly, 
as  her  fingers  closed  over  the  crisp  bills.  "  Good 
night ! "  and  Mark  again  stood  alone  in  the 
shadow. 

"  Curse  her,"  he  muttered  savagely.  Then  sud- 
denly his  mood  changed.  A  softening  light  stole 
into  his  eyes  and  he  soliloquized  almost  tenderly, 
"  But  why  should  I  curse  her !  Has  she  not  been 
sinned  against  more  than  she  has  sinned?  And 
now  her  mother  is  dead  she  must  stay  at  home  and 
keep  house  for  her  father  and  that  brat.  Well, 
God  works  in  a  mysterious  way.  But  how  will 
it  all  end?  " 

He  opened  the  gate  and  passed  in.  Mrs.  Gib- 
son, hearing  his  step  on  the  walk,  hurried  to  open 
the  door.  She  met  him  on  the  threshold  with  a 
smile  of  welcome.  The  light  from  the  hall  shone 
full  on  his  face  and  intensified  the  lines  of  care 


122      THE  SINS  OF  THE  FATHERS 

and  anxiety.  He  had  no  need  to  tell  her  how 
nearly  exhausted  he  was.  Her  solicitous  eyes  saw 
for  themselves.  And  her  wifely  instincts  told  her 
it  was  no  time  to  ask  questions.  So  she  led  the 
way  into  the  sitting-room  in  silence. 


CHAPTER  VIII 
THE  TRIAL 

Ten  o'clock  Wednesday  morning  had  been 
finally  set  for  the  arraignment  of  Frank  Bent  on 
a  formal  charge  of  shooting  Richard  Cole  with 
intent  to  kill. 

It  is  surprising  what  an  avalanche  of  evidence 
public  opinion  can  ferret  out  to  convict  a  man 
before  he  has  a  chance  to  present  a  word  in  his 
own  defense.  Frank's  case  was  no  exception  to 
the  ordinary  run  of  murder  charges.  During  the 
three  intervening  days  since  the  shooting  many 
wild  rumors  were  set  afloat,  many  of  which  were 
the  sheerest  kind  of  fabrications. 

The  government  had  prepared  its  case  with  ex- 
ceeding care,  and  according  to  rumor,  had  evi- 
dence enough  to  convict  the  prisoner  in  the  first 
degree.  It  was  impossible  to  see  how  he  could 
escape  the  gallows. 

While  the  state  had  been  working  up  its  case, 
the  defense  had  not  been  idle.  The  first  train 
Monday  morning  had  brought  Frank's  father 
with  one  of  the  best  criminal  lawyers  in  the  state. 
After  getting  an  account  of  Frank's  movements 

on  the  day  of  the  murder,  his  counsel  went  to  work 

123 


with  a  will  and  worked  night  and  day  to  weld 
together  the  links  in  his  chain  of  defense.  On  the 
morning  of  the  trial  his  one  weak  point  was  a 
missing  witness.  While  this  caused  him  no  end 
of  anxiety,  yet  he  hoped  for  the  best. 

Owing  to  the  standing  of  both  families  in  the 
community,  the  interest  in  the  hearing  was  wide- 
spread. Long  before  the  hour  set  for  the  open- 
ing, every  available  seat  and  foothold  in  the  little 
stuffy  court-room  was  occupied.  The  corridors 
too  were  filled  to  overflowing  with  friends,  enemies, 
and  the  morbidly  curious  who  take  a  fiendish  de- 
light in  the  grewsome  details  of  murders  and  of 
other  depicted  horrors.  So  intense  was  the  in- 
terest in  the  hearing  that  the  shops  were  obliged 
to  close,  because  everyone  either  was  in  the  court- 
house, or  hanging  about  it. 

The  hour  of  the  hearing  was  at  hand.  Look- 
ing somewhat  pale  from  his  three  days'  confine- 
ment, though  otherwise  hopeful  and  cheery,  the 
prisoner  was  led  into  the  court-room.  His  coun- 
sel was  already  at  his  post  and  rose  to  meet  him 
with  a  cheering  smile  and  a  hearty  hand  clasp. 
Frank  glanced  anxiously  over  the  sea  of  upturned 
faces,  and  meeting  the  eyes  of  his  grandmother 
and  Ruth,  smiled  encouragingly,  and  then  seated 
himself  beside  his  counsel.  Robert  Cole  sat  di- 
rectly behind  him,  yet  he  had  not  noticed  him  when 
he  took  his  seat.  Robert  leaned  over  as  if  to 
speak  to  Frank,  but  Bell,  who  sat  beside  him,  laid 
a  restraining  hand  on  him  and  held  him  back. 


THE  TRIAL  125 

Mr.  Bent  came  forward  and  took  his  seat  beside 
Frank;  and  almost  immediately  the  court  was 
called,  and  the  hearing  began. 

The  first  witness  called  was  Charles  Hillis,  who 
testified  to  the  finding  of  the  gun.  His  testimony 
was  corroborated  by  several  of  those  who  were 
with  him  when  the  gun  was  found.  The  gun  was 
produced  and  identified  and  exhibited  to  the  court 
as  the  weapon  with  which  Richard  Cole  met  his 
death.  Every  fact  in  connection  with  the  gun 
was  brought  out  with  telling  effect ;  the  bullet, 
which  had  been  extracted  from  the  head  of  Mr. 
Cole,  was  also  produced  and  shown  to  be  of  the 
same  make  and  caliber  as  the  one  still  remaining 
in  the  rifle. 

There  was  no  denial  to  all  this  on  the  part  of 
the  defense. 

It  was  when  the  prosecution  undertook  to  con- 
nect Frank  with  the  shooting,  and  to  concoct  a 
motive  from  that  almost  forgotten  affair  between 
him  and  Mr.  Cole,  that  the  real  battle  began. 

Joe,  the  man-of-all-work,  was  next  called,  and 
after  identifying  the  gun  as  Frank's,  told  his 
story  somewhat  as  follows: 

"  Master  Frank  was  cleaning  his  gun  in  the 
barn  about  ten  o'clock  Saturday  morning,  when 
I  told  him  there  was  a  nest  of  skunks  somewhere 
in  the  wood  below  the  hill  that  had  been  giving 
us  a  whole  lot  of  trouble  all  summer ;  and  he  said 
he'd  tend  to  their  hides  after  dinner.  About  two 
o'clock  in  the  afternoon  I  was  down  near  the  gate 


126      THE  SINS  OF  THE  FATHERS 

trimming  the  hedge,  when  he  came  down  with  his 
gun  on  his  arm.  Carlo,  his  dog,  was  with  him. 
I  pointed  out  where  I  suspected  the  nest  to  be, 
and  then  went  on  with  my  work. 

"  He  and  Carlo  beat  about  the  bushes  for  some 
time,  perhaps  an  hour,  when  he  called  to  me  and 
told  me  to  go  up  to  the  house  and  bring  down 
his  fishing  rod  and  a  spade  to  dig  bait  with.  I 
went  up  to  the  barn  and  brought  down  his  rod  and 
a  box  of  fresh  bait  that  I  had  dug  for  Ruth  that 
morning.  He  took  up  the  rod  and  bait,  and 
pointing  to  his  gun  which  stood  against  the  juni- 
per tree,  he  told  me  to  take  it  up  to  the  house 
when  I  went  up.  Then  he  and  the  dog  started 
off  up  the  brookside  towards  the  pond.  That 
was  the  last  I  saw  of  him  till  after  his  arrest." 

"  Well,  and  what  about  the  gun  ?  "  asked  the 
district  attorney,  rather  impatiently. 

"  I  went  back  to  my  work  and  forgot  all  about 
the  gun,"  continued  Joe.  "  I  wanted  to  finish  my 
trimming  before  night,  so  I  worked  my  way  up 
the  hill  on  the  hedges  and  had  reached  the  high 
level  when  Mr.  Cole  rode  up  and  dismounted. 
Mrs.  Bent  was  sitting  on  the  veranda  and  rose 
to  receive  him.  I  dropped  my  shears  and  started 
over  to  take  his  horse ;  but  Lord !  before  I  had 
taken  a  dozen  steps,  he  had  flung  himself  into 
his  saddle  again  and  went  dashing  down  the  hill 
like  wildfire.  Mrs.  Bent  came  down  the  steps  and 
asked  me  if  I  had  seen  Ruth  and  Milly.  I  pointed 


THE  TRIAL  127 

to  Milly  coming  up  the  terrace  and  then  to  Ruth 
standing  at  the  stile  with  Robert  Cole. 

"  I  was  standing  there  talking  with  Mrs.  Bent 
when  the  fatal  shot  was  fired.  Even  then  I  didn't 
think  of  the  gun,  or  Master  Frank  himself;  for 
he  had  only  come  home  that  morning,  and  I  had 
hardly  got  used  to  his  being  around." 

The  prosecution  brought  out  the  fact  that  the 
defendant  had  ample  opportunity  to  return  to  the 
covert  without  being  seen  either  by  Joe  or  by  Mrs. 
Bent ;  and  that  he  did  so  return  was  the  conten- 
tion of  the  prosecution. 

Then  followed  Mrs.  Bent.  She  was  subjected 
to  an  unmerciful  grilling  as  to  the  nature  of  Mr. 
Cole's  visit  to  her  that  unfortunate  afternoon. 
They  carried  her  back  over  fifty  years  to  the  time 
when  Richard  Cole  was  a  welcomed  guest  in  her 
father's  home,  and  compelled  her  to  bare  many 
family  secrets  relating  to  the  ill-feeling  which  had 
existed  between  herself  and  the  murdered  man. 
In  this  way  the  prosecution  tried  to  show  that  a 
spirit  of  revenge  for  fancied  family  wrongs  had 
prompted  the  deed. 

Ruth,  Robert  Cole,  and  Milly  were  the  next 
witnesses.  Their  testimony  merely  corroborated 
that  of  Mrs.  Bent  and  Joe  as  to  the  shooting. 
Altogether  the  evidence  was  most  damaging  to 
Frank. 

In  spite  of  the  objections  of  his  counsel,  Frank 
insisted  on  taking  the  stand  in  his  own  defense. 


128      THE  SINS  OF  THE  FATHERS 

The  silence  of  death  pervaded  the  court-room  when 
he  rose  to  be  sworn.  Every  neck  was  craned  to 
see  the  man  who  could  commit  such  a  cold-blooded 
deed  on  such  a  slight  provocation  as  that  set  up 
by  the  prosecution. 

Frank's  story  of  his  movements  on  the  day  of 
the  murder,  told  in  a  calm,  even  tone,  coincided  in 
every  particular  with  that  given  by  Joe  up  to 
the  time  of  his  starting  off  with  his  fishing  tackle. 
At  this  point  the  court  adjourned  for  the  day. 

When  the  court  convened  at  ten  o'clock  next 
morning,  Frank  took  up  the  thread  of  his  de- 
fense. 

**  What  direction  did  you  take  after  leaving 
your  gun  and  telling  Joe  to  carry  it  up  to  the 
house?  "  asked  his  counsel. 

"  I  moved  south,  keeping  along  the  west  bank 
of  the  brook  as  far  as  Sunny  Cove." 

"  How  many  miles  is  Sunny  Cove  from  the  point 
whence  you  started?  " 

"  About  three  miles." 

"  How  long  did  it  take  you  to  walk  the  dis- 
tance? " 

"  I  haven't  the  least  idea ;  perhaps  an  hour ;  1 
tramped  it  somewhat  leisurely." 

"  Were  you  alone  ?  " 

"  Except  for  my  dog,  yes," 

"  Did  you  meet  anyone  on  the  way  up?  " 

"No,  but  I  saw  two  men  mowing  the  marsh 
grass  on  the  lower  meadows  of  Judge  Gray's 
place." 


THE  TRIAL  129 

"  When  you  reached  the  Cove,  what  did  you 
do?" 

"  I  began  to  fish." 

"  Was  there  any  other  person  fishing  at  the 
pool  when  you  reached  it?  " 

"  Yes,  on  the  opposite  bank,  about  thirty  yards 
above  where  I  stood,  a  man  sat  on  a  log  fishing." 

"  Did  you  know  the  man?  " 

"  No,  he  was  a  stranger  to  me." 

"  Did  you  speak  to  him  ?  " 

"  Yes,  I  shouted  to  him  and  told  him  that  if 
he  wanted  to  catch  anything  worth  while  on  the 
east  side,  there  was  a  better  place  five  yards  above. 
He  thanked  me  and  moved  up." 

There  was  a  slight  commotion  in  the  rear  of 
the  court-room  caused  by  a  man  rising  suddenly 
to  his  feet,  but  Frank  did  not  raise  his  eyes  from 
the  face  of  his  questioner. 

"  How  was  this  man  dressed?  " 

"  He  wore  a  Norfolk  jacket  of  some  kind  of 
gray  material,  dark  pants  and  top  boots,  and  a 
light  colored  checked  cap,  as  near  as  I  can  remem- 
ber." 

"Was  he  large  or  small  of  stature?" 

"  He  was  of  medium  height,  rather  stocky." 

"  Did  he  leave  before  you  did?  " 

"  We  left  about  the  same  time.  He  started 
cross  lots  toward  the  railroad  station,  while  I 
started  cross  lots  in  the  opposite  direction  towards 
home." 

"What  time  was  that?" 


130      THE  SINS  OF  THE  FATHERS 

"  I  do  not  know  exactly ;  but  I  should  think  it 
would  be  about  five  o'clock." 

"  How  do  you  fix  the  time?  " 

"  It  was  nearly  six  o'clock  when  I  reached 
home." 

"  How  did  you  approach  the  house?  " 

"  I  came  up  through  the  orchard  and  entered 
by  the  rear  door." 

"  When  did  you  hear  of  the  shooting?  " 

"  When  I  had  been  in  the  house  about  five  min- 
utes my  sister  came  into  the  kitchen  and  told  me 
what  had  happened  and  I  immediately  went  out 
to  the  veranda,  where  I  was  placed  under  arrest." 

"  Would  you  know  the  man  whom  you  saw  at 
the  Cove  if  you  should  see  him  again  ?  " 

"  I  think  I  should ;  especially  if  he  wore  the 
same  clothes.  I  recall  he  wore  a  beard,  slightly 
sprinkled  with  gray." 

During  all  this  time,  with  the  exception  of  that 
one  ripple  of  commotion,  the  silence  had  been  so 
intense  that  the  fall  of  a  pin  might  have  been 
heard.  At  this  point  there  was  another  wave  of 
disturbance  in  the  rear  of  the  room,  which  brought 
the  eyes  not  only  of  the  judge,  but  also  of  the 
whole  assemblage,  in  that  direction,  and  called 
forth  the  sheriff's  sonorous  cry  of  "  Silence  in  the 
court ! " 

Frank's  eyes  followed  the  bent  of  his  counsel 
and  at  once  became  transfixed  on  the  face  of  the 
man  who  had  caused  the  commotion ;  then  in  calm, 


THE  TRIAL 

ringing  tones,  pointing  his  finger  at  the  man,  he 
cried  out: 

"  There  is  the  man  now !  " 

Amid  a  scene  of  but  half  suppressed  excitement, 
such  as  the  little  court-room  had  never  before 
witnessed,  the  stranger  pushed  his  way  through 
the  crowd  and  admitted  his  identity.  He  was  the 
missing  witness  for  whom  Frank's  counsel  had 
been  searching  since  Sunday.  One  can  almost 
imagine  the  thrill  of  joy  that  Frank's  friends  ex- 
perienced as  he  came  forward,  for  his  testimony 
was  all  that  was  needed  to  clinch  Frank's  alibi. 

Though  the  man  was  a  stranger  to  Frank  and 
to  most  of  the  people  in  the  court-room,  he  was 
no  stranger  to  Judge  Gray  nor  to  the  presiding 
judge,  both  of  whom  gave  him  a  nod  and  a  smile 
of  welcome  as  he  stepped  up  to  be  sworn.  In 
corroborating  Frank's  testimony,  he  proved  be- 
yond the  shadow  of  a  doubt  the  innocence  of  the 
accused ;  for  he  fixed  the  time  so  unerringly  as 
to  show  that  Frank  was  at  the  Cove,  three  miles 
away,  when  the  fatal  shot  was  fired;  consequently, 
Frank  could  not  have  fired  it. 

Frank  was  immediately  discharged;  the  court 
adjourned;  and  the  case  that  appeared  so  clear 
in  the  morning  suddenly  became  shrouded  in 
mystery. 

Friends  crushed  forward  in  the  wildest  demon- 
strations of  delight ;  and  for  twenty  minutes  Frank 
held  a  little  court  of  his  own.  Robert  and  Bell 


THE  SINS  OF  THE  FATHERS 

were  among  the  first  to  grasp  his  hands.  With 
quivering  lips,  Robert  expressed  his  pleasure  at 
the  outcome.  The  most  affecting  scene,  however, 
occurred  when  his  grandmother  and  Ruth,  after 
kissing  him,  each  placed  an  arm  about  him  and  led 
him  out  of  the  courthouse  between  them  to  the 
carriage. 

Just  as  Frank  was  about  to  enter  the  carriage, 
a  cold,  clammy  hand  was  thrust  into  his,  and  turn- 
ing, he  looked  into  the  pale,  drawn  face  of  Dick 
Stanton. 

*'  I  want  to  tell  you,  Frank,  how  glad  I  am  that 
they  didn't  fix  this  ugly  thing  on  you.  I  haven't 
slept  a  wink  since  you  were  arrested.  I  shall  go 
home  now  and  go  to  sleep." 

"  It  is  very  kind  of  you,  Dick,  to  think  of  me," 
said  Frank,  wringing  the  little  hand  heartily. 
"  You  can  go  home  now  and  sleep  with  an  easy 
mind ;  but  don't  forget  to  come  up  to  see  me  as 
soon  as  you  can."  Then  he  sprang  into  the  car- 
riage with  his  grandmother  and  Ruth  and  was 
driven  off  amid  a  salvo  of  cheers. 

His  father,  accompanied  by  his  lawyer,  fol- 
lowed in  another  carriage,  and  all  reached  home 
about  the  same  time.  Though  they  were  all  in- 
wardly happy,  a  sad  solemnity  kept  their  spirits 
in  check,  for  there  was  the  mystery  to  be  solved. 

While  Frank  had  kept  a  brave  front  through 
it  all  —  buoyed  in  spirit  by  the  consciousness  of 
his  innocence  —  yet  he  had  felt  the  strain  se- 
verely ;  and  now  that  it  was  all  over  he  seemed 


THE  TRIAL 


in  a  fair  way  to  collapse.  Grandma  Bent  had 
been  quick  to  see  the  waning  energy  of  her  boy ; 
hence  her  interference  in  his  behalf  at  the  court- 
house. 

The  last  four  days  had  been  hot,  humid,  and  al- 
most breathless,  typical  of  the  canny  old  Dog 
Star's  reign.  Even  under  the  most  favorable  con- 
ditions life  becomes  a  burden  during  such  spells  of 
heat  and  moisture.  But  to  be  confined  in  a  small, 
poorly  ventilated  cell  at  such  times  is  enough  to 
sap  the  courage  and  vim  out  of  the  strongest ; 
and  Frank  Bent  just  at  this  time,  though  tall 
and  well-built,  could  not  be  classed  among  the 
strongest. 

But  here  he  was  back  at  the  farm  in  Grandma 
Bent's  hands,  with  everybody  ready  to  pet  and 
pamper  him  in  order  to  make  amends  for  the  cruel 
injustice  of  the  charge  made  against  him.  And 
here  we  shall  leave  him  for  the  present. 


CHAPTER  IX 
ROBERT  TAKES  UP  HIS  BURDEN 

The  tragic  death  of  Richard  Cole  carried 
gloom  and  consternation  into  the  whole  country 
no  less  than  into  the  town  of  Coleville.  None 
could  predict  what  the  effect  would  be  on  the  busi- 
ness interests  of  the  community  at  large.  For 
nearly  half  a  century  his  name  had  been  synony- 
mous with  success  round  about  the  country  side. 
His  had  been  the  moving  spirit  in  many  enter- 
prises which  had  advanced  land  values  and  boomed 
the  locality  as  a  place  worth  living  in.  Far  and 
wide  he  had  won  the  reputation  of  being  a  man  of 
sterling  character  and  keen  business  ability ;  and 
he  was  respected  accordingly.  And  although  his 
whole  energy  had  been  directed  towards  a  selfish 
object  in  life, —  the  amassing  of  a  colossal  for- 
tune,—  much  good  in  the  main  had  resulted  to  the 
surrounding  inhabitants  from  his  efforts.  In 
view  of  all  this,  his  untimely  death  could  hardly 
be  taken  otherwise  than  as  a  far-reaching  calam- 
ity. 

All  eyes  were  now  turned  to  the  son,  young,  in- 
experienced, and  lacking  in  many  of  the  qualities 

which  had  been  the  mainspring  of  his  father's  suc- 
134 


cess ;  and  many  were  the  innuent  shrugs  of  shoul- 
ders when  the  name  of  Robert  Cole  was  mentioned 
in  connection  with  the  great  interests  at  stake. 
Would  he  rise  to  the  demands  of  the  situation? 
This  was  the  much  mooted  question  of  the  hour. 

And  this  was  the  question  that  Robert  Cole 
asked  himself  when  he  found  time  to  think  of  the 
bigness  of  the  task  before  him.  He  felt  the 
weight  of  the  responsibility  which  Fate  had  so 
suddenly,  cruelly,  and  unexpectedly  thrust  upon 
him.  The  golden  dream  of  youth  was  at  an  end ; 
and  the  stern  actualities  of  life  lay  before  him. 
All  this  he  realized  as  he  talked  over  the  situation 
with  Mark  Gibson  the  day  following  the  discharge 
of  Frank  Bent. 

The  great  works  had  been  closed  since  Satur- 
day, the  day  of  the  tragedy ;  and  the  people  were 
beginning  to  feel  restive  under  their  enforced  idle- 
ness. Mark  had  waited  to  be  sent  for  by  Robert ; 
but  after  waiting  all  morning,  and  working  him- 
self up  into  a  high  state  of  nervousness,  he  de- 
cided to  take  the  initiative.  Accordingly,  about 
one  o'clock  he  repaired  to  the  office  and  sent  for 
Robert.  When  Robert  came,  Mark  suggested  to 
him  the  necessity  of  starting  up  the  machinery 
as  soon  as  possible,  in  order  to  allay  the  fears  of 
the  help.  Robert  readily  acceded  to  the  sugges- 
tion. The  two  were  closeted  for  hours  discussing 
plans  for  the  future.  Several  things  were  decided, 
chief  among  which  were  that  Mark  should  retain 
the  same  confidential  position  with  the  son  which 


136      THE  SINS  OF  THE  FATHERS 

he  had  held  so  long  with  the  father,  and  that  the 
works  should  be  started  on  the  following  morn- 
ing. After  settling  these  points,  Robert  left  the 
office  and  went  home  to  dinner. 

From  the  office  window  Mark  watched  him 
cross  the  street  as  he  had  watched  him  on  the 
previous  Saturday,  though  with  a  different  light 
in  his  eyes. 

"  If  Fate  had  not  been  so  relentless ! "  he  mut- 
tered. "  If  she  had  given  him  only  a  year's  prep- 
aration under  the  eyes  of  his  practical  old  father, 
all  might  go  well  with  him,  but—  Here  Mark 
shrugged  his  shoulders  helplessly,  turned  away 
from  the  window,  and  soon  after  left  the  office 
and  returned  home. 

Meanwhile,  Robert  wended  his  way  homeward 
in  a  very  serious  frame  of  mind.  At  heart  he 
was  a  young  man  of  unbounded  sympathy.  But 
unfortunately,  only  two  of  all  his  friends  under- 
stood this  underlying  trait  of  his  character. 
These  two  were  Frank  and  Ruth  Bent.  Even 
Grandma  Bent,  though  she  had  seen  much  of  him 
in  his  boyhood,  and  loved  him  with  her  natural 
affection  for  the  young,  had  failed  to  read  him 
aright. 

He  had  inherited  the  proud,  imperious  bearing 
of  his  mother,  a  bearing  which  repelled  rather 
than  invited  confidence,  and  gave  a  stranger  an 
unfavorable  impression  of  his  worth  as  a  man. 
But  it  was  the  bearing  of  his  maternal  ancestors ; 
and  the  timely  discovery  of  this  family  trait  in 


ROBERT  TAKES  UP  HIS  BURDEN      137 

her  son  had  given  intense  satisfaction  to  Mrs. 
Cole  who,  though  she  loved  and  respected  her  hus- 
band, had  often  been  annoyed  by  his  unconven- 
tional manners  and  homely  speech,  and  who  had 
determined,  even  before  Robert  was  born,  that  her 
son  should  be  of  a  different  mold  from  his  father. 
Therefore,  it  was  only  natural  that  she  should 
rejoice  to  find  in  her  first-born  the  refined  tastes 
of  her  race,  and  should  devote  herself  assiduously 
to  the  training,  not  only  of  his  innate  pride,  but 
also  of  certain  effeminate  tendencies  which  mani- 
fested themselves  at  an  early  age.  And  so  well 
did  she  succeed  in  her  designs  that  Robert  was 
fast  growing  into  a  paragon  of  snobbishness, 
which  might  ultimately  have  been  his  ruin,  had  he 
not  been  brought  into  a  more  wholesome  atmos- 
phere by  the  advent  of  Frank  and  Ruth  Bent 
into  the  neighborhood  just  at  the  right  time  to 
counteract  some  of  the  pernicious  effects  of  his 
artificial  training.  For  Frank  Bent,  big,  healthy, 
romping,  and  fun-loving  Frank,  was  just  the  sort 
of  boy  to  take  the  girlish  crinkles  out  of  the  man- 
nerisms of  a  lad  of  Robert's  type. 

What  is  born  in  the  bones  can  never  be  beaten 
out  of  the  flesh  is  an  old  proverb  which  seemed 
to  be  verified  in  Robert's  case ;  for  in  spite  of 
the  sharp-pointed  ridicule  of  Frank  Bent  and  the 
covert  sneers  of  the  village  lads  whenever  he  ap- 
peared among  them,  Robert  had  never  quite  over- 
come that  indefinable  poise  of  superiority  which 
seemed  to  be  part  of  his  being.  The  blood  of  a 


patrician  was  in  his  veins,  and  he  was  what  he  was, 
because  of  that  blood.  He  was  punctilious  in 
the  niceties  of  everyday  life,  fastidious  in  his 
tastes;  in  his  dress,  fastidious  almost  to  foppish- 
ness. 

It  was  these  characteristics, —  eccentricities 
Mark  Gibson  called  them  —  which  gave  Mark  his 
greatest  concern  for  the  young  man's  future  as 
the  successor  of  his  brusque  old  father.  Mark 
dreaded  the  effect  on  the  workmen,  especially  the 
younger  element,  when  Robert  should  mince  his 
way  into  the  puddling-room  dressed  in  his  fash- 
ionable clothes,  with  his  delicate  white  hands 
dangling  limp  below  his  immaculate  linen  cuffs. 

When  Robert  reached  home  after  leaving  Mark 
at  the  office,  he  was  met  on  the  threshold  by  his 
mother.  She  looked  into  his  face  with  a  wan, 
anxious  smile. 

"  Well,  what  decision  have  you  and  Mark  come 
to?" 

"  That  I  shall  turn  mill-man  and  start  on  my 
duties  to-morrow  morning."  His  tone  was  light, 
but  decisive. 

"  Surely  not,  Robert ! "  she  exclaimed  with  a 
look  of  disappointment  on  her  face.  "  Your 
father  would  never  think  of  letting  you  demean 
yourself.  He  saw  too  much  of  the  works  him- 
self to  allow  you  to  make  a  drudge  of  yourself !  " 

"  There  is  nothing  else  to  be  done,  Mother," 
he  said  kindly,  for  he  saw  the  horror  settling  on 
her  face  and  knew  how  keenly  she  felt  about  the 


ROBERT  TAKES  UP  HIS  BURDEN      139 

matter.  "  Mark  tells  me  there  are  several  large 
orders  on  hand  which  must  be  filled.  Besides, 
there  are  nearly  five  hundred  souls  depending  on 
the  running  of  the  works  for  their  daily  bread. 
We  must  think  of  others  as  well  as  ourselves  " ; 
and  placing  his  arm  around  her  waist,  he  led  her 
gently  into  the  great  wide  hall  with  its  lavish  dis- 
play of  wealth  and  luxury.  Here  he  left  her  and 
went  to  his  room  to  prepare  for  dinner. 

It  was  after  five  o'clock  before  he  found  him- 
self free  to  think  of  himself.  It  seemed  to  him 
that  he  had  lived  ages  since  Saturday.  He  had 
not  seen  Ruth  to  speak  to  her  since  the  accusation 
of  Frank.  He  had  seen  her  on  the  witness  stand 
the  day  of  the  hearing  and  had  noted  the  pallor 
of  her  face  and  the  nervous  twitch  of  her  hands ; 
and  he  had  longed  to  take  her  in  his  arms  to  pro- 
tect her  from  the  gaze  of  the  hundreds  of  curious 
eyes  that  followed  her  every  movement.  He  had 
not  had  a  moment  to  call  his  own  since  the 
tragedy  until  now.  He  felt  the  pressure  on  heart 
and  brain,  for  he  had  not  been  used  to  think  or  to 
act  for  others.  It  was  all  so  new  to  him ;  and  he 
had  not  yet  learned  the  knack  or  the  need  of  re- 
serving his  nervous  forces.  But  now  that  he 
could  think,  he  saw  that  he  would  break  under  the 
strain  if  he  did  not  loosen  the  tension.  Accord- 
ingly, he  ordered  his  horse,  and  about  six  o'clock 
rode  off  into  the  mellowing  shadows  of  the  park. 

The  burden  seemed  to  lift  from  his  heart  and 
the  cloud  to  dissolve  from  his  brain  as  Hector 


140      THE  SINS  OF  THE  FATHERS 

cantered  over  the  smooth  country  roads.  He  in- 
haled deep  breaths  of  the  evening  air,  highly  per- 
fumed with  the  odors  of  sweet  fern  and  pine.  He 
felt  new  life  in  his  veins,  a  sort  of  wild  exhilara- 
tion. He  was  free !  free  at  last !  master  of  him- 
self and  his  own  destiny !  His  blood  thrilled  with 
a  delicious  fever,  and  his  pulse  quickened  as  his 
horse  increased  in  speed. 

He  shuddered,  however,  when  he  crossed  the 
bridge  and  passed  the  spot  where  his  father  had 
met  his  death.  Every  incident  of  the  eventful 
day  trooped  with  lightning-like  rapidity  through 
his  mind  and  oppressed  him  strangely.  He  tried 
to  shake  off  the  feeling  of  oppression  but  could 
not;  and  he  was  still  laboring  under  its  influence 
when  he  drew  rein  at  the  steps  of  Grandma  Bent's. 

Mrs.  Bent  was  sitting  on  the  veranda  when  he 
rode  up  the  hill.  A  shadow  settled  on  her  face 
as  she  watched  him  draw  nearer.  Her  heart  had 
almost  ceased  to  beat  as  she  saw  him  round  the 
jutting  woodland  and  turn  in  at  the  gate.  There 
flitted  through  her  mind  all  the  horrors  of  the 
past  week.  She  rose  to  meet  him  as  he  dis- 
mounted; and  he,  springing  up  the  steps,  caught 
her  outstretched  hands  and  kissed  her  tenderly 
on  the  cheek  as  was  his  wont  in  his  boyhood  days. 
Then  he  led  her  back  to  her  seat,  and  when  she 
had  sunk  into  it,  he  threw  himself  on  a  settle  near 
by  and  glanced  casually  towards  the  door,  as  if 
half  expecting  to  see  someone  else.  She  under- 
stood the  questioning  look  in  his  eyes. 


"  You  are  too  late ;  neither  Frank  nor  Ruth  is 
at  home.  They  have  gone,"  she  informed  him, 
quietly. 

"  Gone !  "  he  repeated,  looking  at  her  with  wide, 
questioning  eyes. 

"  Yes,"  and  her  lips  trembled  as  she  uttered 
the  monosyllable. 

"  When  did  they  go  ?  "  There  was  intense  dis- 
appointment in  his  voice. 

"  This  morning." 

"  Where  have  they  gone  ?  " 

"  To  the  mountains  for  a  short  rest  and  change 
of  scene." 

"  When  do  you  expect  their  return  ?  " 

"  There  is  nothing  definite  about  their  return," 
she  said  sadly ;  "  they  may  be  gone  a  month  or  a 
year."  She  watched  him  keenly  to  note  the  ef- 
fect of  her  information.  "  Their  father  thought 
it  best  for  both  that  they  should  go,  and  insisted 
on  their  going  with  him." 

"  Did  they  leave  any  message  for  me?  "  he 
asked  eagerly. 

"  None !  "  The  word  shot  out  with  a  sharp- 
ness that  fairly  cut. 

A  spasm  of  pain  crossed  his  face,  and  he  seemed 
suddenly  to  lose  heart.  An  embarrassing  silence 
fell  between  them,  for  he  seemed  at  a  loss  how 
to  proceed  under  that  cold,  steely  stare  of  her 
eyes.  It  was  evident  to  him  that  his  old-time 
friends  were  to  fail  him  at  the  point  where  he 
needed  their  counsel  most. 


142      THE  SINS  OF  THE  FATHERS 

Noting  the  pain  in  his  eyes,  she  softened  a 
little  and  sought  to  change  the  subject  by  ask- 
ing, "  What  do  you  purpose  doing  at  the  fac- 
tory?" 

"  The  works  are  to  start  up  to-morrow  morn- 
ing," he  answered,  glad  to  break  the  awkward 
silence.  "  I  mean  to  try  my  hand  at  running  a 
town ;  and  I  came  up  to  get  some  practical  points 
from  Frank.  You  can't  understand,  Grandma, 
how  disappointed  I  am  not  to  see  him." 

"  I  am  glad  you  see  your  duty  to  the  town," 
she  said  with  a  nod  of  approval,  ignoring  his  ref- 
erence to  Frank.  "  You  have  a  good  adviser  in 
Mark ;  and  you  will  succeed,  if  you  only  begin 
right.  I  must  warn  you,  however,  in  regard  to 
your  dress.  Don't,  for  goodness  sake,  don't  go 
into  the  works  in  a  dress  suit ! " 

His  face  flushed.  He  bit  his  lips,  and  again 
there  was  silence.  Mrs.  Bent  saw  that  the  shaft 
had  sunk  to  its  hilt;  but  she  did  not  relent,  nor 
yet  attempt  to  palliate  the  causticity  of  her 
words.  Presently  he  asked, 

"  Will  you  give  me  Ruth's  address  ?  " 

"  No ! "  She  snapped  the  word  out  with  a 
vigor  and  crispness  she  seldom  used  in  her  lan- 
guage. 

He  looked  at  her  in  surprise. 

"Why?"  he  asked  when  he  found  his  voice 
again. 

"  Well,  to  be  perfectly  frank  with  you,  Rob- 
ert, I  am  opposed  to  your  paying  any  attention 


ROBERT  TAKES  UP  HIS  BURDEN   143 

whatsoever  to  Ruth  while  your  family  feel  as  they 
do  towards  her ;  and  somehow,  I  feel  that  they  are 
in  the  right  in  this  affair.  You  know  I  have 
never  interfered  in  Ruth's  affairs  before;  but  now 
that  your  father  is  gone,  and  a  shadow  hangs 
over  my  house  in  regard  to  his  death,  it  becomes 
my  duty  to  speak.  The  mystery  of  your  father's 
death  must  be  cleared,  and  Frank's  innocence  es- 
tablished in  the  minds  of  the  still  skeptical  be- 
yond the  shade  of  a  doubt  before  I  can  receive 
any  member  of  your  family  in  my  home.  Ruth 
is  very  dear  to  me,  and  I  have  only  her  happiness 
at  heart  in  taking  this  step.  Besides,  your  name 
has  been  coupled  with  Miss  Crosby's  — " 

"  Oh,  pshaw !  Grandma  Bent,  you  surely  do 
not  take  any  stock  in  that  gossip ! "  he  broke  in 
impatiently,  flecking  the  dust  off  his  boots  with 
his  riding-whip. 

"  Whether  I  do  or  not  is  immaterial.  The  fact 
remains  that  your  attentions  to  her  during  the 
last  two  years  have  been  such  that  it  would  seem 
dishonorable  to  break  off  now.  Furthermore,  it 
strikes  me  as  lacking  in  respect  to  your  father's 
memory  for  you  to  seek  to  revive  the  old  friend- 
ship between  you  and  Ruth  so  soon  after  his 
death.  Such  a  course  would  be  sure  to  get  awag- 
ging  the  busy  tongues  of  the  whole  country.  We 
have  had  enough  of  it  already ;  and  I  must  beg 
of  you  to  cease  all  attention  to  Ruth  and  save 
me  and  mine  further  annoyance." 

He  rose  to  his  feet  and  took  up  his  hat.     He 


144      THE  SINS  OF  THE  FATHERS 

was  deathly  pale ;  but  he  stood  proudly  erect, 
calm  and  self-controlled,  as  he  answered  in  a 
strangely  subdued  voice, 

"  If  this  is  your  conviction  in  the  matter,  Mrs. 
Bent,  further  argument  would  be  useless.  I  see 
nothing  for  me  to  do  but  to  bow  to  your  will. 
I  shall  respect  your  wishes  and  abide  by  your 
decision.  Good  evening !  " 

He  strode  down  the  steps,  flung  himself  into  his 
saddle,  and  was  off  before  she  could  frame  an 
answer.  Hector  seemed  to  understand  the  out- 
raged spirit  of  his  master,  for  he  fairly  flew  down 
the  driveway,  past  the  spot  whence  the  fatal  shot 
had  sped  on  its  mission  of  death,  and  on  into  the 
open  country  road,  while  Grandma  Bent  sat  with 
bated  breath,  her  hands  tightly  clasped  in  her  lap, 
gazing  after  him  through  a  mist  of  tears.  When 
he  had  passed  beyond  her  sight,  she  rose,  and  look- 
ing off  to  the  melting  lights  in  the  west,  she  said 
aloud, 

"  Surely,  the  sins  of  the  fathers  are  visited  upon 
the  children  1" 

Robert  Cole  never  could  tell  how  many  miles 
he  rode  that  evening,  nor  exactly  where  he  went. 
It  was  nearly  nine  o'clock  when  he  threw  himself 
from  the  saddle  at  the  stable  door  and  handed 
over  a  very  much  jaded  horse  to  the  hostler,  who 
looked  at  the  foam-flecked  animal  in  amazement. 
Nothing  like  it  had  ever  come  into  that  stable 
before.  The  hostler  glanced  at  the  white  face  of 
Robert  and  wondered  if  he  had  seen  a  ghost ;  but 


ROBERT  TAKES  UP  HIS  BURDEN   145 

he  made  no  comment.  Indeed  there  was  no  time 
to  do  so,  for  Robert  turned  on  his  heel  the  instant 
the  hostler  took  the  reins,  and  strode  silently 
into  the  house. 

Next  morning  Robert,  punctual  to  the  second, 
was  at  the  office  at  the  time  suggested  by  Mark 
on  the  previous  day.  The  gates  had  been  thrown 
open  some  twenty  minutes  earlier,  and  the  work- 
men were  filing  through  in  large  numbers.  As 
he  approached,  they  tipped  their  hats  respectfully 
and  greeted  him  with  a  hearty  "  Good  morning, 
Mr.  Cole,"  just  as  they  had  been  in  the  habit  of 
greeting  his  father  for  years  past.  He  was  con- 
scious, too,  of  the  many  side  glances  cast  at  him 
as  he  passed  on  and  into  the  office. 

Mark  was  already  at  his  desk.  He  looked  up 
and  returned  Robert's  "  Good  morning."  Then 
he  straightened  up  and  allowed  his  eyes  to  rest 
on  Robert's  face  for  an  instant  ere  they  swept 
over  the  young  man,  taking  in  every  detail  of  his 
attire.  A  puzzled  and  pleased  expression  settled 
on  his  face  as  he  noted  that  Robert  had  discarded 
his  ultra  fashionable  clothes  and  had  donned  a 
smart  business  suit  of  a  dark-gray  material,  with 
a  negligee  shirt  and  a  somber-colored  tie.  Some- 
how, a  wonderful  change  had  taken  place  in  the 
young  man  since  Mark  had  parted  with  him  only 
yesterday  afternoon.  It  was  not  altogether  in 
his  dress ;  it  was  in  his  voice,  his  face  and  his  bear- 
ing. Mark  could  not  define  just  wherein  the 
change  lay.  Only  it  was  there.  He  was  no 


146      THE  SINS  OF  THE  FATHERS 

longer  the  Robert  of  yesterday.  His  was  a  new 
personality ;  or,  rather,  an  old  one,  resuscitated. 
It  took  Mark  just  five  minutes  to  detect  the  subtle 
change  which  had  taken  place  over  night. 

"  It's  in  him ;  like  father,  like  son ! "  Mark 
chuckled  to  himself,  as  he  joined  Robert  at  the 
side  door  to  show  him  over  the  plant  and  introduce 
him  to  the  various  bosses,  "  and  I'll  make  a  man 
of  him  in  spite  of  the  women  folks ! " 


CHAPTER  X 
DICK  GETS  A  CHANCE 

The  days  crept  on  and  rolled  into  weeks  until 
a  month  had  passed  since  the  shooting  of  Rich- 
ard Cole;  and  still  the  affair  was  shrouded  in 
as  deep  and  impenetrable  a  mystery  as  on  the  day 
it  occurred.  Keen-scented  detectives  had  worked 
diligently  in  tracing  to  its  source  every  rumor,  no 
matter  how  wild  it  appeared.  Clues  and  shadows 
of  clues  were  followed  up  and  exploded ;  till  at 
last,  the  detectives  acknowledged  themselves  baffled 
and  balked  at  every  point. 

In  this,  as  in  every  other  matter  of  importance 
to  the  family,  Mark  Gibson  was  the  consulting 
head.  The  detectives  had  been  engaged  by  him, 
had  received  their  instructions  from  him,  and  had 
reported  to  him  the  results  of  every  wild  goose 
chase  on  which  they  had  ventured.  Though  noth- 
ing had  developed  to  throw  a  ray  of  light  into 
the  dark  secret  of  the  wood,  the  detectives  had 
skeletonized  the  private  character  of  Richard 
Cole  and  become  conversant  with  a  few  ugly  facts 
of  the  dead  man's  past,  much  to  the  chagrin  of 
Mark  Gibson,  who  in  addition  to  his  other  offices, 
held  the  position  of  curator  of  his  employer's 

secrets. 

147 


148      THE  SINS  OF  THE  FATHERS 

It  was  Saturday  afternoon,  the  fourth  since 
the  murder.  Mark  Gibson  sat  alone  in  the  office, 
pivoted  on  his  high  stool  and  busy  as  usual,  when 
the  street  door  opened  softly  and  Mr.  Lunt,  the 
chief  detective,  entered.  Mark  greeted  him  with 
a  nod,  and  sliding  down  from  his  elevation,  came 
over  to  the  railing. 

"  Well,  and  what  is  there  new  in  the  situation?  " 
he  asked  almost  under  his  breath,  as  if  he  feared 
the  walls  had  ears. 

"  I  am  sorry  to  say  there  is  nothing  new," 
he  answered  with  a  discouraging  shake  of  his 
head.  "  Except,  perhaps,"  he  added  after  a  mo- 
ment's pause,  "  that  the  conviction  is  growing  on 
me  that  the  Stanton  family  know  more  about  this 
affair  than  they  are  willing  to  admit,  especially 
that  little  hunchback  devil." 

Mark  started,  but  he  quickly  pooh-poohed  the 
idea.  Then  he  hastened  to  ask, 

"  You  don't  think  he  — " 

"  I  really  don't  know  what  to  think  about  him. 
He  is  certainly  one  of  the  queerest  tickets  I  have 
ever  handled.  I  have  quizzed  him  in  a  roundabout 
way,  and  find  that  he  is  totally  ignorant  of  his 
parentage.  He  calls  old  man  Stanton  '  Father,' 
and  old  mother  Stanton,  who  died  the  day  Mr. 
Cole  was  buried,  *  Mother,'  And  then  it  is  sister 
Nell  here  and  sister  Nell  there.  He's  a  shrewd 
little  customer,  nevertheless.  What  puzzles  me 
most  is  the  way  he  rants  whenever  Mr.  Cole's  name 
is  mentioned.  He  seems  to  have  engendered  an 


DICK  GETS  A  CHANCE  149 

uncontrollable  antipathy  to  the  very  name  of 
Richard  Cole;  and  yet  you  can't  get  a  word  out 
of  him  on  the  subject  of  the  murder.  He  shuts 
up  like  a  clam  when  the  murder  is  broached  even 
in  the  most  matter-of-fact  way.  This  is  why  my 
suspicions  will  not  down.  Were  it  not  for  what 
you  have  told  me  in  connection  with  meeting  him 
on  the  bridge  so  soon  after  the  shooting,  I  would 
chance  taking  him  in  for  examination.  But  this, 
of  course,  is  for  you  to  decide,  so  far  as  I  am 
concerned." 

"  It  would  be  a  waste  of  time,  I  assure  you," 
Mark  hastened  to  say  with  as  much  confidence 
as  he  could  command.  While  Mark  did  his  best 
to  appear  at  ease,  he  was  evidently  very  much  dis- 
concerted by  what  he  had  just  heard.  After  a 
moment's  silence,  he  went  on,  "  And  even  if  you 
did  take  him,  and  could  prove  your  case,  which  I 
very  much  doubt,  what  will  the  gain  be?  Far 
better  the  mystery,  for  all  concerned,  than  the  ex- 
posures which  must  inevitably  follow.  At  least 
so  long  as  no  one  is  injured  by  holding  back," 
he  hastened  to  add. 

"  But  how  can  we  say  that  no  one  is  being  in- 
jured by  our  holding  back?  How  about  Frank 
Bent?  "  asked  Mr.  Lunt  in  a  serious  tone. 

"  The  law  has  vindicated  him ;  he  has  nothing  to 
complain  of,"  replied  Mark  lightly. 

"  I  beg  to  differ  with  you  on  that  point,  Mr. 
Gibson,"  objected  Mr.  Lunt  in  deprecating  tones. 
"  Frank  Bent  has  much  to  complain  of,  and  will 


have  till  the  murderer  is  found.  His  arrest  has 
cast  a  cloud  over  his  future  which  nothing  short 
of  the  apprehension  of  the  actual  slayer  can  lift. 
Then  there  are  the  interests  of  the  community  to 
think  of.  Every  day  the  murderer  is  at  large, 
a  feeling  of  insecurity  is  rife  among  the  people. 
And  besides  this,  there  is  a  growing  contempt  for 
us  fellows  and  for  the  law  itself." 

*'  Well,  well,  we  shall  not  discuss  that  just 
now,"  said  Mark  somewhat  testily,  with  a  com- 
manding wave  of  his  hand.  "  You  are  probably 
right ;  but  I  fear  you  misapprehend  my  meaning. 
It  is  not  my  intention  to  stand  in  the  way  of  the 
law.  Far  from  it !  Only  there  has  been  one 
false  arrest,  and  I  do  not  want  to  see  another. 
Let  there  be  no  more  mistakes !  Until  you  are 
absolutely  sure  of  your  ground,  keep  your  hands 
off  Dick  Stanton.  If  your  trail  ends  there,  why, 
there  let  it  end  for  the  present."  Then  suddenly 
changing  his  tone,  he  asked,  "  Have  you  confided 
your  suspicions  to  anyone  else?  " 

"  No." 

"  Have  any  of  the  other  detectives  any  such 
suspicions?  " 

"  I  think  not.  I  am  the  only  one  who  has  had 
any  dealings  with  Dick." 

"  Good !  Now  keep  your  own  counsel.  So  far, 
your  suspicion  rests  on  the  ground  of  Dick's  un- 
accountable dislike  for  Mr.  Cole.  I  think  this 
might  be  accounted  for  in  a  dozen  different  ways. 
For  instance,  he  might  attribute  the  death  of  Mrs. 


DICK  GETS  A  CHANCE  151 

Stanton  directly  to  the  name  of  Mr.  Cole.  Dick 
was  very  fond  of  the  old  woman.  Her  death  has 
affected  him  deeply.  He  has  brooded  over  it  and 
feels  very  bitter  against  the  world  at  large.  I 
have  talked  with  him  and  know  how  he  takes  it. 
Personally,  I  think  your  suspicions  are  all  wrong. 
Nell,  of  course,  was  forty  miles  away.  As  for 
Jack,  we  know  where  he  was.  As  I  said  before, 
if  your  trail  ends  here,  I  see  nothing  but  to  let 
things  rest  for  a  while.  You  might  go  away  for 
a  few  weeks  and  when  things  have  quieted  down 
a  bit,  come  back  and  go  over  the  ground  again." 

To  this  proposition  Mr.  Lunt  gave  a  reluctant 
consent ;  and  after  making  arrangements  for  his 
return  whenever  Mark  should  deem  it  advisable, 
he  left  the  office,  and  late  that  afternoon  took  his 
departure  from  Coleville  in  a  rather  disconcerted 
mood. 

Mark  had  hardly  settled  himself  on  his  high 
seat  again  after  bowing  Mr.  Lunt  from  the  office 
when  the  door  opened  and  Robert  entered.  Mark 
looked  up  with  a  startled  air,  but  quickly  recovered 
himself  and  said  casually, 

"  I  thought  you  had  gone  home  an  hour  ago." 
Then  his  eyes  dropped  to  his  ledger  as  if  that 
ended  his  interest  in  the  young  man's  coming  back 
to  the  office. 

"  I  started  for  home,"  he  said  with  a  weary 
smile,  throwing  himself  into  a  chair,  "  but  got  held 
up  on  the  way  by  old  man  Stanton.  He  had 
rather  a  pitiful  story  to  tell.  He  has  been  unable 


152      THE  SINS  OF  THE  FATHERS 

to  work  for  a  long  time;  his  wife  has  recently 
died;  and  his  daughter  Nell,  who  has  been  the 
main  support  of  the  family,  has  been  obliged  to 
give  up  her  position  and  come  home  to  keep  house 
for  him  and  the  boy,  as  he  calls  Dick.  He  begged 
me  to  find  something  for  Dick  to  do.  I  told  him 
I  would  talk  the  matter  over  with  you  and  I 
thought  there  was  no  doubt  that  you  would  be 
able  to  place  the  lad  at  some  light  work  that 
would  be  suitable  for  him.  So  I  came  back  to 
speak  to  you  about  the  matter  before  I  forgot 
it." 

At  the  first  mention  of  Mr.  Stanton's  name, 
the  pen  had  slipped  from  Mark's  nerveless  fingers 
and  rolled  to  the  floor  with  a  shuffling  noise. 
Mark  sagged  heavily  forward  on  the  desk  and  sat 
rigid,  gaping  with  wild  eyes  and  dropped  jaw 
through  the  narrow  spacings  of  the  desk-rails  at 
Robert. 

"  But  there  are  doubts,  and  grave  doubts  too, 
about  our  finding  anything  suitable  for  him  to 
do,"  dissented  Mark  in  a  dry  unnatural  voice, 
pulling  himself  together  and  sliding  down  from 
his  seat  to  pick  up  his  pen. 

"  Why  so  ?  "  asked  Robert  quietly.  "  Aside 
from  his  deformity  he  appears  rugged  enough. 
Surely  there  is  something  about  the  works  which 
he  might  do  without  over-taxing  his  strength. 
The  old  man  is  extremely  anxious  to  find  some 
sort  of  work  for  him ;  something  that  will  occupy 
his  time  and  keep  him  out  of  his  uncle's  saloon, 


DICK  GETS  A  CHANCE  153 

which  he  has  begun  to  frequent  more  than  is  good 
for  him  since  his  mother's  death.  And  here  you 
see,  Mark,  is  another  argument  in  favor  of  my 
closing  up  that  saloon." 

"  Better  let  the  saloon  and  the  whole  Stanton 
tribe  alone !  "  snapped  Mark  impatiently.  Then 
recovering  himself,  he  assumed  a  more  temporizing 
tone  and  manner;  for  it  suddenly  occurred  to  him 
that  he  might  gain  more  by  conceding  a  measure 
than  by  exhibiting  a  too  virulent  antagonism. 
"  After  all,  I  don't  know  but  what  something  might 
be  found.  At  any  rate,  I'll  speak  to  Hillis  and 
see  what  can  be  done  for  him." 

"  I  have  it,  Mark,"  laughed  Robert  as  an  idea 
seemed  to  strike  him  pleasantly.  "  I'll  take  him 
into  the  office.  I  understand  he  has  a  fair  educa- 
tion. Perhaps  I  can  utilize  him  as  a  sort  of 
private  secretary,  errand  boy,  and  jack  of  all 
tricks." 

Mark's  jaws  dropped;  the  sallow  on  his  face 
deepened;  and  for  a  moment  he  could  not  speak. 
He  studied  Robert's  laughing  face  for  a  brief 
period,  then  regaining  his  composure,  asked, 

"Is  this  a  joke?" 

"  No." 

"  You  really  mean  it  ?  "  Incredulity  was  writ- 
ten all  over  Mark's  face. 

"  I  do." 

"  Then  I  must  give  you  notice  that  the  mo- 
ment Dick  Stanton  comes  into  this  office  in  any 
capacity  whatsoever,  I  go  out !  " 


154.      THE  SINS  OF  THE  FATHERS 

Robert  looked  at  him  in  undisguised  amaze- 
ment, and  seeing  those  obstinately  closed  lips, 
knew  it  would  be  easier  to  pierce  a  block  of  ada- 
mant with  a  pin  than  to  budge  Mark  from  his  ex- 
pressed purpose.  Still,  he  wanted  to  learn 
Mark's  reasons. 

"  Why  do  you  feel  so  strongly  opposed  to  the 
idea  of  giving  the  poor  fellow  a  chance?  It  is 
not  like  you  to  show  such  animus  in  small  mat- 
ters." 

"  Small  matters  !  "  grunted  Mark.  "  If  you 
knew  the  Stantons  as  I  do,  you  would  as  soon 
take  an  adder  in  and  give  it  the  freedom  of  your 
office  as  to  think  of  bringing  in  that  lazy  loon. 
They're  a  bad  lot  to  meddle  with,  and  you'd  bet- 
ter let  them  severely  alone." 

"  Come,  Mark,  that's  uncharitable !  Here  is  a 
decrepit  old  man,  a  sick  daughter,  and  a  deformed 
son,  with  no  settled  income,  and  winter  coming 
on.  We  cannot  shut  our  eyes  to  actual  condi- 
tions and  then,  should  anything  happen,  ask 
piously,  *  Am  I  my  brother's  keeper?  ' 

"  Did  I  understand  you  to  say  a  sick  daugh- 
ter? "  asked  Mark  in  a  somewhat  mollified  tone. 

"  So  I  understand.  She  was  completely  broken 
up  over  her  mother's  death  and  had  quite  a  sick 
spell,  and  is  barely  able  to  get  about  the  house 
now." 

A  change  came  over  Mark's  face;  a  shade  of 
pity  gleamed  for  an  instant  in  his  eyes ;  yet  he 
was  not  quite  ready  to  capitulate, 


DICK  GETS  A  CHANCE  155 

"  I  am  sorry  that  Nell  is  sick.  I  can  see  where 
they  are  going  to  find  it  hard  to  get  along  under 
present  conditions.  For  all  that,  I  don't  see  how 
it  concerns  us.  This  is  no  charitable  institu- 
tion." 

"  No,  thank  God,  it  is  not ! "  chimed  in  Robert 
with  considerable  heat.  "  If  I  thought  it  were, 
I  would  never  open  the  gates  again !  It's  a  work- 
shop ;  and  if  any  man  seeks  work  in  it,  he  has 
a  right  to  be  considered  individually.  What  his 
family  has  or  has  not  done  has  nothing  to  do 
with  the  question  of  his  right  to  earn  his  own 
living.  Because  I  mean  to  handle  Jack  Stanton 
without  gloves  is  no  reason  why  I  should  not  give 
Dick  a  chance  to  show  what  is  in  him."  He  rose, 
saying  as  he  moved  towards  the  door,  "  I  shall 
leave  the  matter  with  you  now  to  arrange  with 
Hillis  for  Dick  to  start  Monday  morning.  Tell 
him  to  find  Dick  something  to  do  about  the  yard 
—  light  work  that  will  keep  him  in  the  open  air 
as  much  as  possible  —  running  errands,  or  some- 
thing of  that  sort.  Put  the  poor  unfortunate 
devil's  name  on  the  pay  roll.  That  will  be  bet- 
ter than  having  Mother  or  Bell  doling  out  charity 
to  the  family.  If  you  want  to  boost  a  man's  self- 
respect,  give  him  work,  not  charity."  He  opened 
the  door  and  passed  out. 

Mark  settled  his  elbows  on  his  desk  as  the  door 
closed  after  Robert ;  and  dropping  his  head  on  his 
open  palms,  he  sat  for  some  time  buried  in  deep 
thought.  Fully  ten  minutes  flew  by.  Then  he 


156      THE  SINS  OF  THE  FATHERS 

raised  his  head,  threw  it  back  with  a  dejected  toss 
and  muttered  aloud: 

"  The  mills  of  the  gods  grind  slowly ;  but  they 
grind  exceedingly  sure ! "  Half  an  hour  later  he 
was  on  his  way  home. 

It  was  nine  o'clock  that  night  when  Mark  Gib- 
son dodged  into  one  of  the  numerous  by-lanes 
leading  off  from  the  main  road  near  the  outskirts 
of  the  village  and  paused  before  the  door  of  a 
dilapidated  looking  story-and-a-half  cottage.  It 
stood  under,  or  rather  it  leaned  against,  the  trunk 
of  an  old  apple-tree  of  immense  girth,  whose 
gnarled  limbs  stretched  over  the  house  in  strangely 
menacing  gestures.  Glancing  cautiously  about 
and  assuring  himself  that  no  one  was  in  sight,  he 
ventured  a  timid  little  rap  on  the  door.  Almost 
instantly  the  door  was  opened  about  an  inch,  and 
the  voice  of  Nell  Stanton  asked: 

"  Who  is  there? "  while  Nell  herself  peered 
through  the  crack  into  the  darkness  over  Mark's 
head. 

"  It  is  I,  Nell,"  answered  Mark,  stepping  up  on 
the  broad  stone  flag  which  served  as  a  step. 

The  door  opened  wide  enough  to  admit  him, 
and  Nell  said, 

"  Come  in." 

He  obeyed  the  summons  and  as  the  door  closed 
behind  him  he  heard  the  key  turn  in  the  lock. 

"  Why  this  precaution  ? "  he  asked,  glancing 
nervously  about  the  room.  In  that  one  quick 
survey  he  took  in  every  detail  of  his  surroundings. 


DICK  GETS  A  CHANCE  157 

The  room  was  large  and  even  under  the  dim  light 
of  the  one  small  oil-lamp,  he  saw  it  was  bare,  al- 
most to  emptiness.  A  small  cracked  cook-stove 
trying  to  balance  itself  on  three  legs,  thrust  as 
it  was  well  back  into  the  gaping  mouth  of  the 
large  open  chimney,  made  a  sorry  spectacle  to 
begin  with.  On  one  side  of  the  room  stood  an 
old  deal  table  on  which  were  set  out  a  few  broken 
dishes.  And  high  on  the  wall  above  the  table 
hung  a  begrimed  chromo,  representing  a  table 
laden  with  luscious  fruits  of  all  climes  in  tempt- 
ing array.  A  rush-bottom  rocker  and  two  wooden 
chairs  completed  the  furnishings  of  the  room. 

Nell  pushed  one  of  the  chairs  towards  Mark 
as  she  answered  his  question : 

"  Simply  a  precaution  against  the  pranks  of  the 
wind ;  so  don't  be  alarmed." 

"  Are  you  alone  ?  "  he  asked,  trying  to  pierce 
the  darkness  beyond  the  chamber  door,  which 
stood  partly  open. 

"  I  am,"  she  answered,  following  his  glance  with 
a  half  scornful  light  in  her  black  eyes.  "  You 
are  not  afraid,  are  you?  " 

"  No,  no ! "  he  said  hastily,  bringing  his  eyes 
to  bear  on  her  face  with  a  scrutinizing  stare. 
"  You  have  been  sick  ?  "  he  half  questioned,  as  he 
studied  the  pale,  pinched  features  of  the  woman 
before  him. 

"  Yes ;  this  whole  business  has  kind  a- worn  on 
me,"  she  said  wearily.  "  I  was  not  well  to  begin 
with ;  I  am  worse  now.  Where  it  will  end,  I  don't 


158      THE  SINS  OF  THE  FATHERS 

know.  I  sent  for  you  to  come  here,  because  I 
had  not  heard  from  you  since  that  night  of  the 
funeral,  and  because  I  knew  we  should  be  free  from 
intrusion,  and  there  were  some  things  I  wanted 
to  say  to  you." 

**  It  was  my  intention  to  see  you  before  this," 
half  apologized  Mark  with  the  air  of  a  penitent. 

"  Yes,"  she  remarked  bitterly.  "  The  streets  of 
hell  are  paved  with  good  intentions." 

"  So  I  have  heard,"  he  admitted.  "  Well,  now 
that  I  am  here,  what's  in  the  wind?  " 

"  Why  simply  this :  The  rumor  is  that  Robert 
Cole  intends  to  close  up  my  Uncle  Jack's  place, 
and  I  want  you  to  head  it  off."  She  riveted  a  pair 
of  coal-black  eyes  upon  him  as  she  spoke. 

His  face  darkened  and  he  asked  almost  impa- 
tiently, 

"  But  supposing  I  can't?  " 

"  In  that  case,  Uncle  Jack  may  find  a  way  to 
prick  the  pride  of  those  who  set  such  high  store 
on  points  of  birth  and  blood."  A  fit  of  coughing 
interrupted  her  for  a  moment.  When  she  re- 
covered she  went  on  in  a  cold,  calculating  voice. 
"  You  know  my  father  has  been  unable  to  work 
for  a  long  time.  My  uncle  Jack  has  been 
a  mighty  good  friend  to  us  all;  and  I  don't  pur- 
pose to  sit  calmly  down  and  see  him  ruined  by  be- 
ing ousted  from  his  living." 

"  For  heaven's  sake,  Nell,  don't  be  rash ! "  im- 
portuned Mark  with  intense  fervor.  "  If  you  will 


DICK  GETS  A  CHANCE  159 

only  have  patience,  everything  will  be  worked  out 
in  a  logical  way." 

"  Logical  fiddle-sticks !  "  she  exclaimed  impa- 
tiently. "  I  didn't  send  for  you  to  talk  logic  to 
me.  Ordinary  common  sense  talk  will  lead  us  to 
the  point  quicker  and  serve  my  purpose  better." 

"  Nell  Stanton,  I  am  harassed  almost  to  dis- 
traction ! "  returned  Mark  in  a  petulant  tone. 
"  Robert  Cole  is  the  very  antithesis  of  his  father. 
He  has  high  ideals.  He  has  his  plans  for  Cole- 
ville,  and  in  his  own  good  time  will  put  them 
through.  He  means  to  do  the  right  thing  by 
everybody.  Only  this  afternoon  he  gave  orders 
to  find  some  light  work  for  Dick  around  the  shops, 
so  that  his  name  could  be  placed  on  the  pay  roll. 
Now  what  more  can  you  want  for  the  present?  " 
He  looked  at  her  appealingly,  as  if  he  expected  her 
to  acquiesce  in  his  opinion  that  all  which  could 
reasonably  be  asked  had  been  done. 

"  What  more  can  I  want,  indeed ! "  she  asked 
sneeringly.  "  What  more  should  I  want  than  to 
see  that  poor  crippled  body  —  crippled  through 
the  violent  temper  of  the  one  who  should  have 
been  his  natural  protector  —  what  more  should 
I  ask,  I  repeat,  than  to  see  that  poor  crippled 
body  crawling  out  of  bed  on  a  cold  winter's  morn- 
ing and  trudging  off  to  a  long  day  of  toil  amid 
the  heat  and  dust  of  those  hellish  furnaces?" 

There  was  a  measure  of  bitterness  in  her  voice, 
the  bitterness  of  a  hapless  mother  powerless  in 


160      THE  SINS  OF  THE  FATHERS 

the  hands  of  Fate  to  protect  her  offspring  from 
some  hidden  danger  which  she  knew  beset  his  path. 
She  had  risen,  and  now  stood  looking  down  at  him 
with  a  look  of  agony  in  her  dark  eyes. 

As  Mark  looked  into  that  face,  now  shorn  of 
the  beauty  which  had  once  attracted  the  eye  of 
the  unscrupulous,  though  not  entirely  devoid  of 
certain  charms,  he  could  not  help  the  feeling  of 
compunction  which  suddenly  rose  in  his  heart. 
He  had  known  her  since  childhood,  and  he  could 
not  escape  the  thought  that  he  might  have  saved 
her  in  the  beginning  had  he  dared  to  speak  the 
word.  He  suddenly  realized  his  own  weakness 
at  a  time  when  he  should  have  been  strong.  And 
now  he  felt  helpless  before  that  accusing  voice. 

"  But  your  father  thinks  it  is  best,  Nell,"  he 
ventured  to  say  with  more  kindness  than  he  had 
yet  used  to  her.  "  It  was  he  who  spoke  to  Robert 
about  Dick.  Your  father  thinks  Dick  is  hang- 
ing round  Jack's  place  more  than  is  good  for  him 
since  your  mother  died." 

She  eyed  him  almost  incredulously,  as  if  his 
sudden  display  of  kindness  was  hardly  to  be  taken 
seriously ;  and  for  a  moment  she  maintained  her 
silence.  At  last  she  spoke.  There  was  a  tremor 
of  sadness  in  her  voice. 

"  It  is  true  that  Dick  has  recently  taken  to 
drink.  I  can't  understand  him  any  more.  Per- 
haps Father  is  right  in  getting  him  something  to 
do ;  but  it  seems  mighty  hard  to  me.  When  I 
see  him  now  and  think  of  what  he  might  have  been 


DICK  GETS  A  CHANCE  161 

I  can  hardly  bear  the  strain.  It  sets  me  wild  at 
times ! "  A  spot  of  burning  red  leapt  into  her 
hollow  cheeks;  her  eyes  blazed  with  an  unnatural 
light  as,  with  clenched  hands  and  set  teeth,  she 
took  several  turns  across  the  room. 

Mark  rose  to  go  and  stood  with  his  hat  in  his 
hand,  silently  watching  her  and  waiting  for  her 
to  grow  calmer. 

"  Whether  you  know  it  or  not,  Nell,"  he  said 
with  increasing  tenderness,  "  I  have  always  been 
your  friend.  When  he  was  inclined  to  be  hard 
on  you,  I  stood  in  the  breach.  I  always  insisted 
on  his  giving  you  a  square  deal,  so  far  as  lay  in 
his  power.  I  have  borne  the  brunt  of  the  fires 
for  twenty-three  years.  I  am  ready  to  stand  by 
you  still,  if  you  are  willing  to  be  guided  by  me. 
Let  me  impress  this  on  you:  that  you  have  more 
to  lose  than  to  gain  from  any  unnecessary  ex- 
posures. Will  you  accept  my  friendship  and  be 
guided  by  my  advice?" 

After  a  moment's  hesitation,  during  which  time 
she  studied  his  face  intently,  she  placed  her  hot 
hand  in  his  and  said  between  little  hysterical 
sobs: 

"  Yes,  I  will ;  for  God  knows  I  need  a  friend 
somewhere ! " 

He  pressed  her  hand  gently,  and  then  taking 
a  small  roll  of  bills  from  his  pocket,  he  slipped  it 
into  her  palm  and  closed  her  fingers  over  it,  say- 
ing: 

*'  There,  there,  just  wipe  your  eyes  and  let  us 


162      THE  SINS  OF  THE  FATHERS 

get  down  to  business.  You  must  let  matters  go 
on  as  they  are  going  for  the  present.  I  shall  see 
that  Dick  is  not  killed  with  hard  work.  As  for 
your  Uncle  Jack,  if  Robert  insists  on  his  vacating 
the  premises,  you  must  advise  him  to  go  quietly. 
There's  the  old  tavern  on  the  road  below;  Jack 
might  rent  that  and  still  retain  his  trade.  You 
can  manage  that  part  of  the  game  if  you  will  and 
avoid  a  scandal.  Robert  is  planning  great  things. 
Every  old  ramshackle  in  the  village  is  either  to 
be  torn  down  and  replaced  with  a  new  building, 
or  remodeled  and  placed  in  a  condition  for  folks 
to  live  in.  I  must  go  now;  think  over  what  I  have 
said,  and  be  guided  accordingly.  Good  night." 

He  opened  the  door  quietly  and  passed  out, 
leaving  Nell  standing  in  the  middle  of  the  floor 
somewhat  bewildered  by  the  change  in  the  man 
she  had  heretofore  most  dreaded  and  distrusted. 
Should  she  trust  him  now?  This  question  was 
still  unanswered  when  Dick  came  staggering  home 
from  his  Uncle  Jack's  in  a  maudlin  state  that  bor- 
dered on  imbecility.  She  heard  his  shambling 
steps  as  he  mounted  the  flag  at  the  threshold, 
and  hastened  to  open  the  door ;  but  ere  she  reached 
it,  it  flew  open,  forced  by  the  weight  of  Dick's 
clumsy  body  being  placed  against  it,  and  Dick 
stumbled  headlong  in  across  the  floor.  The  sight 
was  too  much  for  Nell  in  her  sick  and  nervous 
state,  and  she  turned  away  with  a  gesture  of 
despair,  and  sinking  on  a  chair  near  the  table, 
she  buried  her  face  in  her  hands  and  sobbed  aloud. 


DICK  GETS  A  CHANCE  163 

Monday  morning  Dick  Stanton  reported  to 
Charles  Hillis,  the  superintendent  of  the  yard,  as 
had  been  previously  arranged  that  he  should,  and 
was  given  the  position  of  general  utility  man 
about  the  yard.  Just  what  that  meant,  no  one 
seemed  to  have  any  definite  idea ;  but  Dick  was 
satisfied  to  accept  it  at  its  face  value.  It  sounded 
big,  and  that  suited  him  to  a  T;  for  despite  his 
crooked  shape,  he  had  a  proud  spirit  and  set  much 
store  on  his  own  importance. 

His  appearance  caused  covert  glances  to  pass 
between  the  men ;  and  many  were  the  questioning 
eyes  that  followed  the  misshapen  little  figure  as 
it  hung  in  the  shadow  of  Charles  Hillis  all  that 
day  and  for  many  days  after.  But  the  novelty 
wore  off  in  time  and  the  men  came  to  look  at  his 
presence  among  them  as  a  natural  sequence  of 
passing  events ;  until  finally  they  admitted  him 
to  their  circles  and  made  him  feel  as  one  of  them- 
selves. . 

When  Robert  reached  home  after  leaving  Mark 
in  the  office  that  afternoon,  he  found  a  visitor 
awaiting  his  coming,  a  visitor  in  the  person  of  a 
Dr.  St.  John,  a  lifelong  friend  of  his  mother's 
family.  The  doctor  had  only  recently  returned 
from  a  long  sojourn  abroad;  and  having  learned 
of  the  sad  death  of  Mr.  Cole,  he  could  not  content 
himself  until  he  had  paid  his  respects  in  person 
to  the  bereaved  family.  So  he  had  taken  the 
present  moment  to  run  down  to  Coleville  for  that 
purpose.  He  had  only  intended  to  make  a  brief 


164      THE  SINS  OF  THE  FATHERS 

call,  but  he  stayed  for  lunch,  and  then  was  in- 
duced to  remain  over  the  Sabbath. 

He  was  a  charming  old  gentleman  of  about  sev- 
enty, brimfull  of  sights  and  scenes  of  foreign 
travel,  which  he  retailed  in  a  most  fascinating  man- 
ner. Though  Mrs.  Cole  had  not  seen  him  since 
she  was  a  mere  slip  of  a  girl,  she  felt  as  much  at 
home  in  his  presence  as  if  he  had  been  a  daily 
caller  for  years.  She  recognized  in  him  the  man 
of  learning  and  of  wide  worldly  experience ;  and 
it  occurred  to  her  that  if  she  could  only  induce 
him  to  remain  as  her  guest  for  a  few  weeks,  he 
might  be  of  valuable  assistance  to  her  in  her 
management  of  Robert,  whom  she  was  beginning 
to  find  rather  headstrong.  Accordingly  she  took 
him  into  her  confidence  and  told  him  of  Robert's 
wild  schemes  for  the  turning  of  the  village  topsy- 
turvy ;  and  begged  him  to  remain  as  her  guest  for 
a  few  weeks,  that  he  might  see  for  himself  how  im- 
practical Robert's  plans  were,  and  to  persuade 
him  to  abandon  them. 

Knowing  nothing  of  his  mother's  designs,  Rob- 
ert himself  pressed  the  doctor  to  spend  a  few 
weeks  with  the  family.  The  invitation  was  gladly 
accepted,  for  the  doctor  had  found  that  after 
nearly  forty  years'  continuous  residence  in  foreign 
lands,  he  was  practically  a  stranger  among 
strangers  in  his  own  land.  To  be  the  guest  of 
the  family  of  an  old  friend  was  indeed  a  pleasure 
not  to  be  lightly  passed  over.  Thus  it  was  that 
Dr.  St.  John  gathered  up  the  broken  threads  of 
his  life  in  Coleville. 


CHAPTER  XI 
DR.  ST.  JOHN  DECIDES  TO  STAY 

"  It's  a  capital  idea,  Robert,  a  capital  idea !  " 
There  was  just  the  faintest  touch  of  sarcasm  in 
the  voice  of  the  venerable  old  doctor ;  and  he 
pulled  vigorously  at  his  long,  gray  mustache  to 
hide  the  smile  that  played  about  his  delicately 
molded  lips. 

**  Yes,  Doctor,  I  think  it  is  a  capital  idea,"  an- 
swered Robert  Cole,  straightening  himself  up  and 
pushing  his  hat  back  from  his  broad,  white  fore- 
head with  a  boyish  gesture  of  pride.  At  the  same 
time  his  clear,  dark  eyes  took  a  sweeping  glance 
over  the  little  gray  hamlet  nestling  amid  the  ver- 
dure below  as  it  lay  in  a  flood  of  morning  sun- 
shine at  his  feet,  and  he  smiled  complacently. 

"  Hem !  well,  yes,"  remarked  the  doctor  cau- 
tiously ;  "  that  is, —  if  you  can  put  it  into  prac- 
tice." 

"  Put  it  into  practice ! "  exclaimed  Robert, 
turning  a  pair  of  quizzical  eyes  full  on  the  speak- 
er's face  as  though  doubting  his  hearing.  "  Why, 
of  course  I  can  put  it  into  practice!  Don't  I 
own  the  place  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  came  laconically  from  under  the  twitch- 
ing mustache. 

165 


166      THE  SINS  OF  THE  FATHERS 

"  Then  what's  to  hinder  me  ?  "  he  asked  with  a 
hauteur  quite  in  keeping  with  his  poise.  "  Can't 
I  make  my  own  bargains  with  the  people  whom  I 
hire?  " 

"  Perhaps,"  said  the  doctor  skeptically. 

"  Perhaps  ?  "  repeated  the  young  man ;  and  the 
finely  chiseled  chin  tilted  a  trifle  higher  in  the 
air. 

It  was  not  that  Robert  Cole  meant  to  appear 
haughty  or  imperious  in  the  eyes  of  his  guest, 
the  renowned  Dr.  St.  John.  Far  from  it!  Had 
he  not  been  unburdening  his  soul  to  the  doctor 
for  the  last  hour  —  laying  bare  all  his  ambitions 
and  plans  for  the  upbuilding  of  Coleville  and  for 
the  betterment  of  its  people  with  a  boyish  candor 
that  quite  surprised  himself? 

"  Yes,  perhaps ! "  reiterated  the  doctor  with  a 
little  stronger  emphasis.  Not  a  muscle  of  his  face 
changed,  though  he  knew  how  his  words  hurt. 
For  a  moment  his  conscience  pricked  him  and  he 
allowed  his  eyes  to  wander  off  in  a  sweeping  glance 
over  the  valley. 

The  two  men  stood  on  an  eminence,  being,  in 
fact,  one  of  the  lesser  spurs  of  the  Berkshire  hills 
in  the  western  part  of  Massachusetts,  from  which 
a  magnificent  view  was  unfolded  to  the  eye  — 
presenting  a  wide  expanse  of  farm  lands  encircled 
by  broken  ridges  of  towering  peaks.  The  low- 
lands undulating  in  rugged  waves,  alternated  in 
patches  of  dense  woods,  grassy  meadows,  and  fields 
of  waving  grains ;  while  glimpses  of  sparkling 


ST.  JOHN  DECIDES  TO  STAY      167 

streams  could  be  caught  occasionally  winding 
among  an  endless  variety  of  green,  threading  in 
and  out  like  a  strand  of  burnished  silver.  The 
neat  farmhouses  dotting  the  landscape  here  and 
there  lent  tone  to  the  colors,  while  the  farmers 
with  their  teams  afield,  and  the  drowsy  cattle 
grazing  in  the  pastures,  added  a  touch  of  life 
to  the  scene. 

September  was  well  on  the  wane.  Up  on  the 
highlands  the  foliage  had  begun  to  change. 
Great  plashes  of  reds  and  yellows  mingled  with 
the  greens  in  wild  confusion,  making  the  hills  an 
echoing  symphony  of  color-tones. 

Nestling  in  one  corner  of  the  valley,  at  the  foot 
of  the  hill  on  which  they  stood,  lay  the  little 
village  of  Coleville,  every  detail  of  which  was  vis- 
ible to  their  critical  gaze.  It  was  prettily  situ- 
ated, and  the  sylvan  stillness  of  its  environments 
gave  it  an  air  of  peace  and  tranquillity  quite  in 
harmony  with  the  wild  and  varied  scenery  over- 
topping it. 

There  was  the  village  green,  a  relic  of  earlier 
days,  blocked  in  a  square  which  marked  the  vil- 
lage center,  from  which  branched  the  various 
streets  and  by-lanes.  To  the  left  of  this  ran  the 
principal  street  on  which  was  lined  the  grocery 
store  and  post  office  combined,  a  dry-goods  store, 
a  general  notion  store,  Stanton's  Tavern,  and  fur- 
ther along,  hanging  to  the  skirts  of  the  village, 
the  little  white  church  with  its  square  belfry  tower 
surmounted  by  a  tall,  slender  spire.  Facing  the 


168      THE  SINS  OF  THE  FATHERS 

square  on  one  side,  a  high  hill  rose  gently,  on  the 
summit  of  which  stood  the  mansion  of  the  Coles. 
On  the  other  side  of  the  square,  the  great  plant 
of  Cole  and  Company  stretched  over  several  acres, 
flanked  on  the  right  by  the  river  which  tumbled 
noisily  over  the  falls  under  the  bridge  and  swept 
on  its  course  through  meadows  and  woods;  and 
on  the  left  by  a  carriage  road  which  led  to  the 
little  smoky  railroad  station  beyond. 

Hardly  six  weeks  had  passed  since  Robert  had 
come  into  his  heritage.  Six  busy  weeks  they  had 
been.  He  had  thrown  himself  into  the  breach 
with  wonderful  energy  and  fortitude,  and  while 
he  remained  under  the  guidance  of  Mark  Gibson, 
had  carried  himself  with  prudence  and  modera- 
tion, much  to  the  surprise  of  his  mother  and  Bell, 
who  knew  him  better  than  he  knew  himself. 

But  he  had  begun  to  grow  restive  under  Mark's 
restraining  influence  and  cautious  foresight. 
Mark  had  seen  it,  and  it  pained  him ;  yet  he  made 
all  sorts  of  excuses  for  the  lad  and  kept  on  the 
even  tenor  of  his  way,  hoping  for  the  best. 

Things  had  moved  along  smoothly  until  he  be- 
gan to  put  his  social  theories  to  the  practical 
test.  Mark  cautioned  him  not  to  go  too  far. 
His  long  experience  in  dealing  with  the  men  in  the 
works  made  him  skeptical  of  results,  and  he  could 
see  no  use  in  stirring  up  a  hornets'  nest  if  there 
was  nothing  to  be  gained  by  it.  He  knew  that 
Robert  meant  well;  but  thought  his  lack  of  ex- 
perience and  knowledge  of  men  handicapped  him. 


ST.  JOHN  DECIDES  TO  STAY      169 

As  we  already  know,  he  had  been  brought  up  in 
seclusion,  his  only  companions  in  boyhood  and 
youth,  outside  of  his  immediate  family  circle,  hav- 
ing been  Mark  Gibson,  Frank  and  Ruth  Bent. 

He  had  gone  from  Coleville  to  college  and  come 
back  from  college  to  Coleville;  this  was  the  ex- 
tent of  his  travels ;  and  beyond  the  experience  to 
be  gained  from  an  occasional  brush  with  the  stu- 
dents and  his  intercourse  with  the  professors,  he 
had  had  little  chance  to  rub  up  against  the  out- 
side world.  Of  opinions,  ideas,  and  theories  of 
men,  such  as  are  to  be  gleaned  from  books,  he  had 
a  surfeit;  but  of  men  and  their  ways  as  a  mass 
of  humanity,  of  real  human  nature  in  all  its  di- 
versities, he  had  acquired  very  little  practical 
knowledge.  Even  the  people  of  Coleville  were 
strangers  to  him,  so  far  as  their  actual  modes  of 
living  and  thinking  were  concerned.  True,  he 
knew  many  of  them  by  name;  and  occasionally, 
when  a  boy,  had  been  in  their  homes  for  a  few  mo- 
ments at  a  time  with  Frank  Bent.  But  it  could 
hardly  be  said  that  he  knew  them  as  a  people ;  for 
only  the  best  side  of  their  hard  lives  was  open  to 
his  observation  on  these  casual  calls.  Even  what 
he  did  see,  little  as  that  was,  was  intolerable  to 
his  refined  nature.  Thinking  that  he  knew  the 
cause  of  much  of  this  poverty  and  filth,  and  that 
he  had  the  power  to  eradicate  it,  now  that  he  was 
master  of  the  situation,  he  meant  to  inaugurate  a 
series  of  sweeping  reforms  among  the  people;  re- 
forms, that  would  root  out  all  existing  evils. 


Yes,  he  would  make  a  clean  sweep,  and  at  once; 
but  where  should  he  begin? 

It  was  to  settle  this  perplexing  question  that 
he  had  taken  into  his  confidence  Dr.  St.  John, 
whose  opportune  visit  to  Coleville  seemed  a  god- 
send to  the  inexperienced  young  mill-owner. 

Strange  things  had  happened  in  Coleville  dur- 
ing the  past  few  weeks  —  things  which  had 
changed  the  general  aspect  of  the  big  sooty 
foundry,  and  had  given  it  rather  a  jaunty  appear- 
ance. The  new  owner  had  taken  the  reins  into 
his  own  hands  and  everything  seemed  to  be  mov- 
ing at  a  two-forty  pace.  The  yards  had  been 
cleaned  of  piles  and  piles  of  rubbish,  the  accumu- 
lation of  years;  the  inside  of  the  office  had  been 
renovated  and  the  outside  had  been  freshened  by 
a  coat  of  brick  paint;  the  ugliness  of  the  sur- 
rounding yard  had  been  hidden  by  a  layer  of 
velvety,  green  sods,  with  here  and  there  a  flower- 
bed laid  out  in  some  fanciful  design,  in  which  a 
variety  of  brilliant  hued  blossoms  shed  their  per- 
fume on  every  passing  breeze.  The  help  looked 
on  in  open-mouthed  wonderment  and  asked  each 
other,  "  What  next  ?  "  In  the  midst  of  this  came 
rumors  of  the  possible  closing  up  of  a  certain 
shanty  known  as  Stanton's  Tavern.  The  bare 
hint  of  such  a  proceeding  was  enough  to  conjure 
a  spirit  of  revolt  among  the  bibbers  who  fre- 
quented the  place,  and  who  took  much  pleasure  in 
watching  their  hard-earned  dimes  and  dollars  slip 
over  the  smooth  surface  of  the  bar  and  drop  with 


ST.  JOHN  DECIDES  TO  STAY      171 

a  jingle  into  the  well-filled  till  of  the  landlord,  Jack 
Stanton. 

That  such  a  revolt  was  actually  in  fermenta- 
tion might  be  gathered  from  the  low  mutterings 
of  discontent  and  the  scowling  looks  that  followed 
the  young  mill-owner  whenever  he  passed  through 
the  mill  or  the  village.  It  was  like  the  rumble 
of  distant  thunder  preceding  a  storm.  The  doc- 
tor had  heard  something  of  this  only  the  day 
previous,  when  he  had  come  suddenly  on  a  group 
of  workmen  during  the  noon  hour.  They  were 
discussing  the  new  "  boss,"  as  they  called  Robert, 
in  loud  tones  and  emphatic  language.  Knowing 
something  of  Robert's  plans  from  what  Mrs.  Cole 
had  told  him,  the  doctor  was  in  a  position  to  un- 
derstand the  angry  menacing  attitude  of  the  men 
whenever  the  "  boss  "  was  mentioned. 

And  here  on  this,  the  doctor's  last  day  in  Cole- 
ville,  the  young  man  had  become  very  communica- 
tive with  his  guest.  He  had  shown  him  over  the 
mill,  over  the  village,  and  over  the  whole  extent 
of  his  newly  acquired  possessions;  pointing  out 
the  defects  of  the  village  system ;  explaining  the 
evils  resulting  from  such  a  course  of  government, 
or  rather  lack  of  government,  as  that  followed  by 
his  father  for  so  many  years,  and  finally  unfold- 
ing his  well-laid  plans  for  an  immediate  change. 

The  old  doctor  had  listened  to  his  young 
friend's  extravagant  schemes  for  the  regeneration 
of  the  villagers  without  deigning  to  make  any 
reply  until  they  had  reached  the  point  at  which 


172      THE  SINS  OF  THE  FATHERS 

the  chapter  opens.  All  the  time,  however,  he  had 
been  studying  his  host  and  grinding  many  of  his 
theories  —  "  gigantic  conceits  "  the  doctor  called 
them  —  into  powder ;  and  he  now  stood  prepared 
to  throw  the  dust  over  the  glamour  of  many  of 
those  projects. 

"  What  do  you  mean,  Doctor?  "  asked  Robert, 
returning  to  the  subject  under  discussion  after 
a  moment's  silence,  during  which  time  his  eyes 
had  followed  the  bent  of  the  doctor's  over  the 
valley. 

"  Simply  this,  Robert,"  he  said  gravely,  his 
eyes  still  resting  on  the  picturesque  scene  stretch- 
ing off  and  melting  in  the  purple  haze  above  the 
distant  hills ;  "  that  while  your  ideas  are  grand 
and  noble, —  capital,  as  I  said  in  the  beginning, 
—  they  are  too  ideal  for  present  conditions,  and 
your  plans  for  carrying  them  out  are  impractical, 
to  say  the  least.  You  will  find  it  no  easy  task 
to  change  the  habits  and  customs  of  a  lifetime ;  as 
for  attempting  a  presto  change  act,  your  own 
judgment  ought  to  warn  you  against  such  a 
course.  It  would  be  a  suicidal  policy,  to  follow 
which  would  only  react  to  your  own  disadvantage 
in  the  end.  No,  Robert,  your  plans  can  not  very 
well  be  put  into  practice,  especially  among  the 
people  with  whom  you  have  to  deal." 

"  The  people  with  whom  I  have  to  deal ! "  he 
repeated  softly,  the  shadow  of  a  smile  twitching 
at  the  corners  of  his  mouth.  "  Why,  Doctor,  you 
don't  know  the  people  with  whom  I  have  to  deal. 


ST.  JOHN  DECIDES  TO  STAY      173 

"  I  fear  it  is  you,  Robert,  who  do  not  know 
them,"  answered  the  doctor,  shaking  his  head  with 
much  gravity. 

"  I  ought  to  know  them.  I  have  lived  among 
them  all  my  life,"  he  replied  with  a  smile. 

"  Not  exactly  among  them,  Robert ;  you  have 
lived  over  them,  a  mile  and  a  half  above  them, 
on  the  hill  yonder."  And  he  jerked  his  thumb 
sideways  to  the  stately  residence,  crowning  the 
summit  of  a  hill  that  shelved  upward  from  the 
road  winding  like  a  narrow  ribbon  of  gray  through 
and  over  the  hills. 

"  Is  it  necessary  for  a  man  to  live  in  the  depths 
of  degradation  to  know  the  misery  such  a  life 
generates  ?  "  asked  Robert  after  a  moment's  pause. 
"  I  live  just  where  my  father  lived  for  the  last 
fifty  years,  and  he  knew  the  people." 

"  True !  He  knew  the  people ;  knew  them  well 
enough  to  let  them  live  their  own  lives  and  not 
interfere  with  their  liberty  to  do  as  they  pleased 
with  their  own,"  replied  the  doctor  calmly.  "  I  do 
not  wish  to  discourage  you  in  your  good  work, 
Robert;  but  I  must  warn  you  against  any  hasty 
step.  There  is  the  faintest  rumble  in  the  village 
already,  and  I  should  not  like  to  see  a  storm 
burst  over  your  head  at  the  outset  of  your  ca- 
reer." 

"  I  see,  Doctor,  you  do  not  understand  my 
people.  They  have  always  been  loyal  to  my 
father's  interests;  and  there  is  no  reason  why 
they  should  not  be  loyal  to  mine.  They  will  do 


174-      THE  SINS  OF  THE  FATHERS 

as  I  want  them  to  do.  I  would  stake  my  life 
on  that  point !  " 

There  was  a  touch  of  pride  in  his  tone  as  he 
uttered  the  last  sentence. 

"  I  fear  you  would  lose  your  stake,  Robert," 
he  said,  shaking  his  head  sadly.  "  There  are 
limits  beyond  which  no  self-respecting  man  will 
go  in  his  submission  to  what  he  may  be  pleased 
to  call  by  the  ugly  term  '  tyranny.' ' 

"  Tyranny !  "  exclaimed  the  young  enthusiast, 
aghast  at  the  mere  mention  of  the  word.  "  You 
surely  do  not  call  the  helping  of  people  to  better 
their  condition  tyranny  !  " 

"  Helping  people  to  better  their  condition  is 
one  thing;  coercing  them  into  living  according 
to  your  ideals  is  quite  another.  Carried  to  a 
certain  point,  the  latter  might  be  construed  as  a 
species  of  tyranny.  Manners,  customs,  tastes, 
and  appetites  are  not  formed  in  a  day.  They  are 
the  growth  of  years.  Some  are  centuries  old,  and 
so  firmly  rooted  in  the  soul  of  the  people  that 
nothing  short  of  regeneration  can  eradicate  them. 
To  attempt  to  wipe  them  out  with  a  single  stroke 
would  be  resented  by  most  men  as  a  piece  of  high- 
handed interference  with  their  liberties." 

"  But,  Doctor,  I  may  say  whether  a  saloon 
shall  or  shall  not  be  run  on  my  premises?  " 

"  Certainly  you  may ;  but  you  can't  station  a 
guard  at  every  crossroad  leading  into  your  town, 
to  search  those  who  enter  for  contraband  goods. 
I  can  think  of  such  a  course  being  pursued  by  some 


ST.  JOHN  DECIDES  TO  STAY       175 

grand  duke  of  Russia;  but  by  an  American, 
never !  " 

"  I  should  hardly  want  to  do  that,"  he  replied 
quickly,  with  a  shade  of  disappointment  in  his 
voice.  It  was  evident  to  the  doctor  that  Robert 
was  piqued. 

The  fact  was,  Robert  had  hoped  to  enlist  the 
doctor's  sympathy  in  his  plans,  and  to  gain  his 
approval  in  carrying  them  out.  But  here  he  was 
in  direct  opposition  to  them,  opposing  them  even 
more  strenuously  than  his  mother,  Bell  or  Mark 
had  done.  A  strained  silence  fell  between  them, 
broken  at  last  by  the  doctor. 

"  Your  father  succeeded  amazingly  well  because 
he  never  interfered  with  the  liberties  of  his  work- 
men to  live  as  they  pleased." 

"  True,"  replied  the  young  man  with  a  sad 
smile,  "  but  that  does  not  prove  that  my  father 
was  right  and  that  I  am  all  wrong  on  this  ques- 
tion. A  great  deal  can  be  learned  from  the  mis- 
takes of  others.  That  my  father  winked  at  dog 
fighting,  cock  fighting,  petty  gambling,  and  a 
drinking  saloon  within  the  confines  of  his  prop- 
erty is  no  reason  why  I  should  do  so,  and  allow 
the  men  to  continue  to  debauch  themselves  at  the 
expense  of  their  women  and  children.  It  may 
sound  well  to  talk  of  the  personal  liberty  of  the 
men ;  but  what  about  the  personal  liberty  of  the 
women  and  children?  Have  they  no  rights,  no 
liberties,  which  should  be  respected?  Must  they 
go  on  forever  cowering  and  suffering  under  the 


176      THE  SINS  OF  THE  FATHERS 

tyranny  of  drunken,  debauched  fathers,  husbands, 
sons,  and  brothers,  and  no  one  raise  a  hand  or  a 
voice  in  their  defense? 

"  I  tell  you,  Doctor,  it  makes  me  sick  at  heart 
to  see  a  creature  in  the  shape  of  a  man  stand  with 
his  heel  on  the  breasts  of  helpless  women  and 
children,  grinding  them  into  the  lowest  depths  of 
degradation,  while  he  swells  out  his  chest  and 
howls  for  personal  liberty.  Personal  liberty,  for- 
sooth !  The  only  inalienable  personal  liberty  that 
belongs  to  any  man  is  the  liberty  to  do  right ! 
My  conscience  tells  me  that  it  is  right  for  me 
to  close  that  saloon,  and  I  mean  to  close  it,  come 
what  may ! " 

"  Bravo,  my  lad,  I  like  to  see  a  spark  of  de- 
termination in  a  young  man,  even  though  I  do  not 
agree  with  him,"  said  the  doctor  with  a  smile. 
"  But  let  me  ask  you  one  question.  You 
wouldn't  think  of  planting  wheat  until  the  ground 
had  been  prepared  to  receive  it,  would  you  ?  " 

"  No,  I  think  not." 

"  Then  why  attempt  to  force  these  reforms  be- 
fore you  have  in  some  measure  paved  the  way 
for  them?  Why  not  try  to  win  your  people  over 
to  your  way  of  thinking,  and  let  them  work  out 
their  own  reforms?  Forced  fruits  are  never  the 
best.  Your  own  personality  should  count  for 
much  in  this  little  town  if  you  take  up  this  work 
in  the  right  way;  and  with  a  little  help  from  the 
minister  and,  perhaps,  your  mother  and  Bell,  and 
this  new  doctor  whom  you  expect  to  settle  here, 


ST.  JOHN  DECIDES  TO  STAY      177 

you  ought  to  be  able  to  carry  everything  your 
own  way.  But  don't  attempt  to  brush  the  cob- 
webs off  the  moon  with  a  single  sweep  of  a  short 
handled  broom!  And  by  the  way,  Robert,  what 
a  snap  your  village  doctor  will  have ! " 

"  Yes,  it  will  be  a  sinecure  for  the  right  man, 
the  people  are  so  healthy." 

"  I  am  half  tempted  to  apply  for  the  berth 
myself,"  laughed  the  doctor. 

"  And  why  not  ?  "  asked  Robert,  turning  a  ques- 
tioning look  into  his  face. 

"  Why  not,  indeed  ? "  repeated  the  doctor 
meditatively,  looking  off  over  the  valley  to  the 
line  of  blue  ridges  beyond.  "  It  strikes  me  as 
just  the  thing,  Robert.  I  feel  that  I  owe  some- 
thing to  my  native  land  after  my  long  absence 
and  neglect.  Why  could  I  not  pay  my  long  de- 
ferred debt  by  administering  to  the  physical  needs 
of  the  thousand  or  so  souls  in  this  valley,  and  pass 
my  declining  years  amid  the  beauties  of  my  na- 
tive hills?" 

Robert  looked  at  him  in  surprise. 

"  Doctor  St.  John,  can  anything  induce  you  to 
settle  among  us?"  Robert  asked,  jumping  at 
the  bare  suggestion. 

"  It  would  take  very  little  urging  to  make  me 
think  favorably  of  it,"  replied  the  doctor  with  a 
far-away  look  in  his  mild  gray  eyes. 

Robert  placed  his  arm  lovingly  across  the 
shoulders  of  the  old  doctor  and  said  with  a  ring 
of  genuine  pleasure  in  his  voice, 


178      THE  SINS  OF  THE  FATHERS 

"  Come,  let  me  show  you  the  pretty  house  that 
is  building  for  the  sole  accommodation  of  our  new 
doctor.  There  it  stands  on  the  hill  yonder ! " 
He  pointed  to  a  neat  cottage  of  the  Queen  Anne 
style  in  course  of  erection  a  short  distance  up  the 
road,  not  far  from  where  they  stood.  "  Just  say 
the  word,  and  you  can  have  any  alterations  or 
additions  that  will  suit  your  convenience  and 
taste." 

"  Let  us  walk  up  and  look  it  over ;  if  it  suits 
me,  I  may  accept  your  offer,"  he  replied  with  a 
laugh.  "  But  if  I  do,  it  will  be  on  one  condition." 

"  Name  it !  " 

"  That  you  will  wait  awhile  longer,  say  six 
months,  before  putting  your  plans  into  execu- 
tion." 

"  Agreed ! "  he  exclaimed  with  a  touch  of  en- 
thusiasm. "  If  such  a  concession  can  secure  so 
good  a  doctor  for  my  people,  I  shall  think  it  well 
made !" 

The  two  men  walked  leisurely  up  the  hill,  with 
Robert  expatiating  on  the  grandeur  of  the  scen- 
ery and  the  natural  resources  of  the  streams  and 
woods  all  the  way. 

The  cottage  was  inspected  and  the  whole  situ- 
ation gone  over;  and  resulted  in  the  decision  of 
the  doctor  to  settle  in  Coleville.  And  within  a 
month  his  sign  was  swinging  from  the  piazza  over 
the  front  door,  and  he  himself  domiciled  within. 

The  doctor  was  not  long  in  winning  his  way 
among  the  people.  He  was  an  eccentric  old  fel- 


ST.  JOHN  DECIDES  TO  STAY       179 

low,  with  an  unlimited  fund  of  droll,  dry  humor 
from  which  to  draw  on  all  occasions.  And  he 
drew  on  it  lavishly  and  dispensed  it  on  all  sides. 
He  seemed  to  live  up  to  the  old  adage  that  a 
hearty  laugh  is  better  than  medicine.  His  ex- 
tensive travels  having  thrown  him  into  all  sorts 
of  company,  he  had  developed  a  cosmopolitan 
spirit  which  cropped  out  at  almost  every  turn. 
At  times  one  might  see  him  the  center  of  a  group 
of  unwashed  men  at  the  mill  gate,  or  perhaps  at 
the  grocery  store  sitting  astride  a  rickety  old 
chair  tilted  back  against  the  wall,  discussing  poli- 
tics, cracking  jokes,  or  telling  long  stories  of  his 
foreign  travel.  He  gave  freely  of  his  knowledge, 
not  pedantically,  but  rather  with  the  air  of  a 
man  who  disseminates  learning  for  the  sheer  pleas- 
ure of  giving  of  his  abundance  to  appease  the 
hunger  in  the  souls  of  his  less  fortunate  brothers. 

He  went  freely  among  the  cottagers,  dropping 
a  hint  here  and  there  among  the  women  as  to  the 
best  methods  of  caring  for  the  babies,  and  promot- 
ing health  by  cleanliness.  He  made  a  confidant 
of  every  child  in  the  village,  and  was  elected  cap- 
tain of  the  boys'  baseball  team.  In  fact,  he  made 
himself  felt  everywhere.  The  men  soon  learned 
to  appreciate  and  admire  him;  the  women  to  con- 
fide in  him;  and  the  children,  big  and  little,  to 
adore  him. 

Being  a  skilful  physician  and  surgeon,  he  was 
soon  in  demand  for  miles  around.  But  he  posi- 
tively refused  to  respond  to  any  calls  beyond  the 


180      THE  SINS  OF  THE  FATHERS 

limits  of  the  village,  except  in  extreme  cases. 
When  one  of  the  men  expressed  a  wonder  at  his 
confining  himself  to  such  a  narrow  field  as  that 
afforded  by  the  village,  he  answered: 

"  I  find  it  just  the  ideal  work  in  which  to  spend 
my  declining  years,  Mr.  Stone, —  the  ideal  work, 
Mr.  Stone,  and  the  ideal  place  in  which  to  balance 
my  accounts  with  Uncle  Sam." 


CHAPTER  XII 

THE  DOCTOR  HAS  A  PATIENT  THRUST 
UPON  HIM 

The  fall  glided  rapidly  on  and  trailed  into  a 
delightful  Indian  Summer,  and  at  last  winter 
closed  in  with  her  dead  white  grandeur.  The  doc- 
tor had  found  those  days  among  the  most  happy 
and  peaceful  of  his  long  life.  He  had  his  horse 
and  dog  and  was  often  met,  mounted  on  a  beauti- 
ful roan,  cantering  over  the  country  roads;  or 
perhaps,  with  a  gun  or  rod  slung  over  his  shoul- 
der, tramping  through  the  woods  accompanied  by 
his  well-trained  hounds. 

December  came,  cold,  raw,  snappy  December; 
and  Christmas  week  had  been  ushered  in. 
Towards  the  close  of  a  bright  sunshiny  day  in  that 
week  the  doctor  was  returning  from  an  afternoon 
hunt.  He  was  serenely  happy  as  he  trudged 
along  over  the  hard  snow,  with  his  well-earned 
trophies,  two  fine  rabbits  and  a  hare,  dangling 
from  the  barrel  of  his  gun  as  it  rested  on  his  shoul- 
der. It  was  early  twilight  when  he  struck  the 
railroad  track  half  a  mile  below  the  covered  bridge 
that  spanned  the  river  a  short  distance  behind 

the  works.     A  solemn  stillness  pervaded  the  earth, 

181 


182      THE  SINS  OF  THE  FATHERS 

the  very  streams  being  hushed  under  their  heavy 
armors  of  ice.  Hills,  valleys,  and  streams 
stretched  away  in  one  unbroken  sheet  of  glisten- 
ing whiteness  to  meet  the  pink  line  of  the  horizon. 
Impressed  by  the  solemnity  of  Nature  in  her  icy 
garb,  he  would  pause  occasionally  to  bring  his 
soul  into  closer  touch  with  the  passive  silence 
around  him. 

Reaching  the  bridge  in  this  tranquil  mood,  he 
was  about  to  enter  when  the  shrill  whistle  of  a 
locomotive  startled  him,  and  reminded  him  that 
the  five  o'clock  freight  was  due.  He  had  barely 
time  to  step  back  and  take  shelter  with  his  dogs 
among  the  branches  of  a  fallen  tree  on  the  edge 
of  the  precipitous  embankment,  before  the  loco- 
motive loomed  around  the  curve  where  it  had  been 
shut  off  from  sight  and  sound  by  the  over-hang- 
ing hills.  On  it  came,  puffing  and  blowing  like  a 
huge  fabulous  monster.  It  gave  an  angry  screech 
as  it  drove  past  him  and  disappeared  under  the 
black  roof  of  the  bridge.  Car  after  car  rolled 
by  with  a  dizzying  motion  and  a  rumble  that 
jarred  the  earth  and  made  the  tree  on  which  he 
had  taken  refuge  tremble  under  his  feet.  When 
the  end  hove  in  sight  he  breathed  more  freely,  and 
prepared  to  spring  into  the  roadbed  as  soon  as  it 
should  pass.  The  last  car  dashed  past;  but  be- 
fore he  had  time  to  move,  he  saw  a  dark  object 
hurled  from  the  top  of  the  car  and  fall  with  a 
dull,  heavy  thud  across  the  track  a  few  feet  in 
front  of  where  he  stood. 


THE  DOCTOR  HAS  A  PATIENT      183 

For  a  moment  he  was  unnerved.  He  could  see 
by  the  shape  that  it  was  a  man,  and  he  realized 
that  the  poor  fellow  had  been  struck  by  the  bridge 
and  swept  from  his  position  on  the  top  of  the 
car.  The  barking  of  his  dogs  roused  him  into 
action ;  and  leaping  on  the  track,  he  peered  into 
the  white,  upturned  face  of  the  man  as  he  lay, 
stretched  at  full  length  across  the  track,  appar- 
ently lifeless. 

He  started,  and  exclaimed, 

"My  God!     Melicent!" 

It  was  a  handsome  face,  almost  feminine  in  its 
contour,  that  he  gazed  upon;  and  though  a  trifle 
bloated  from  dissipation,  much  of  its  natural 
beauty  could  be  traced  as  it  rested  there,  calm 
and  white  in  the  shadow  of  death,  under  the  pale 
light  of  the  full  moon  which  had  now  risen  high 
in  the  eastern  sky. 

Dropping  on  his  knees  beside  the  injured  mar, 
he  made  a  hasty  examination,  and  found  that  life 
was  not  extinct.  He  also  found  that  besides  a 
fractured  skull,  from  which  the  blood  was  flowing 
freely,  the  poor  fellow  was  pretty  well  shattered. 
He  administered  a  stimulant  which  he  happened 
to  have  in  his  pouch,  and  with  the  meagre  means 
at  his  disposal,  staunched  the  flow  of  blood,  band- 
aged his  head,  and,  then  dragging  him  off  the 
track  to  a  place  of  safety,  left  his  dogs  on  guard 
while  he  hurried  across  the  bridge  to  the  village 
for  help. 

The   doctor   soon   returned   with   a   number   of 


184.      THE  SINS  OF  THE  FATHERS 

men,  who  gently  laid  the  young  man  on  a  litter 
which  they  had  brought  along,  and  bore  him 
safely  across  th*e  bridge.  This  was  no  easy  task, 
for  it  was  pitch-dark  under  the  hood  of  the  bridge ; 
and  besides,  there  was  no  flooring,  nothing  but  the 
sleepers  on  which  to  walk,  and  it  took  three  men 
with  lanterns  to  light  and  guide  them  over  the 
dangerous  passage.  They  passed  over  safely, 
however,  and  carried  the  wounded  man  to  the 
doctor's  home,  where  he  was  left  in  the  doctor's 
charge. 

The  doctor  lost  no  time  in  getting  to  work. 
The  young  man  was  immediately  stripped,  and 
with  the  assistance  of  Robert  and  the  minister, 
whom  he  had  sent  for  and  pressed  into  service, 
the  doctor  set  about  reducing  fractures,  stitching 
gashes,  and  bandaging  broken  limbs.  Now  and 
again  he  would  look  searchingly  into  the  young 
man's  face  with  a  curious  expression  in  his  eyes ; 
but  he  never  once  let  up  until  every  wound  was 
dressed.  Through  it  all  the  young  man  re- 
mained unconscious.  Twice  during  the  opera- 
tions Robert  and  the  minister  both  counseled  the 
doctor  to  cease,  as  it  was  hoping  beyond  hope 
to  expect  anything  but  death  from  such  a  wreck. 
In  fact,  they  thought  he  was  already  dead,  and 
that  the  doctor  was  experimenting  on  the  first 
surgical  case  he  had  had  since  he  came  to  Cole- 
ville.  But  the  doctor  knew  better.  He  shook  his 
head  and  said  simply, 

"  While  there's  life,  there's  hope," 


THE  DOCTOR  HAS  A  PATIENT      185 

Finally  the  task  was  done,  and  the  stranger 
laid  on  a  cot  in  a  small  room  leading  off  the  office ; 
then  the  doctor  turned  his  attention  to  the  work 
of  reviving  him. 

Their  services  being  no  longer  needed,  Robert 
and  the  minister  left  the  house,  too  faint  and  over- 
come by  the  ordeal  of  playing  doctor's  assistant 
to  raise  any  question  as  to  the  young  man's  iden- 
tity. His  torn  and  blood-stained  clothing,  when 
removed,  had  been  rolled  in  a  bundle  and  laid  on 
the  closet  floor  by  Norah,  and  no  further  thought 
given  to  them. 

All  night  the  stranger  lay  unconscious ;  and 
all  night  the  doctor  paced  restlessly  between  the 
bedside  of  his  patient  and  the  medicine  cabinet  in 
his  office,  or  rested  for  brief  intervals  in  his  deep- 
seated  easy-chair,  which  he  had  wheeled  in  front 
of  the  open  door  of  the  chamber. 

Morning  dawned;  still  there  was  no  change, 
unless  the  faintest  perceptible  color  in  the  lips 
could  be  called  a  change.  Breakfast  being  ready, 
the  doctor  took  a  few  moments  to  eat  and  refresh 
himself,  leaving  Norah,  his  housekeeper,  in  the 
office  to  watch  his  patient  for  signs  of  return- 
ing life,  and  to  tidy  up  a  bit.  When  he 
returned  Norah  had  finished  her  work.  Taking 
up  a  duster  which  lay  on  the  table,  she  accidentally 
switched  off  a  pair  of  kid  gloves.  She  stooped, 
picked  up  the  gloves,  and  recognizing  them  as  be- 
longing to  the  young  man,  stood  smoothing  them 
out  with  a  caressing  touch  when  she  felt  something 


186      THE  SINS  OF  THE  FATHERS 

hard  inside  of  one  of  them.  Holding  the  glove 
up,  she  shook  it  gently,  when  a  glittering  object 
fell  to  the  floor  and  rolled  in  a  gleaming  circle  to 
the  feet  of  the  doctor. 

Norah  gave  a  little  scream  of  delight  as  she 
gazed  in  open-mouthed  wonder  at  the  glistening 
circle  scintillating  in  a  streak  of  sunlight  on  the 
floor.  The  doctor  glanced  at  it,  turned  deathly 
pale,  staggered  backward,  and  sank  into  his  chair, 
trembling  from  head  to  foot. 

Norah  rushed  to  his  side  in  a  fright,  exclaiming 
in  kindly  tones, 

"  O,  Doctor,  you're  worn  out  with  being  up  all 
night;  let  me  tend  to  the  poor  young  gentleman 
while  you  go  to  bed  for  a  few  hours'  rest." 

He  did  not  answer  her ;  he  only  laid  his  hand  on 
hers  and  pressed  it  gently,  as  though  thankful 
for  her  sympathy.  She  picked  up  the  circlet  of 
flame  and  placed  it  in  his  hands.  Then  he  waved 
her  from  the  room.  He  looked  at  the  glittering 
object,  which  proved  to  be  a  ring  of  curious  work- 
manship and  of  priceless  value.  It  lay  on  his 
open  palm,  where  the  sunlight  could  play  on  its 
many  colored  gems,  and  he  gazed  at  it  in  rev- 
erential silence.  Slowly  his  head  sank  upon 
his  breast,  tears  trickled  down  his  deeply  fur- 
rowed cheeks,  while  a  dreamy  expression  stole 
into  his  eyes.  His  lips  moved  and  he  solilo- 
quized : 

"  Yes,  he  is  her  son !  I  felt  it  the  moment  I 
saw  him ;  I  know  it  now  for  a  certainty.  But  how 


THE  DOCTOR  HAS  A  PATIENT 

strange  that  he  should  be  cast  at  my  feet  in  such 
a  tragic  manner !  Ah,  Melicent,  I  know  not 
whether  you  are  near  or  far;  but  this  I  do  know: 
that  your  son  is  branded  with  the  curse  of  your 
house.  Young  as  he  is,  I  can  trace  it  in  his  face ; 
its  fumes  were  in  his  breath  last  night.  Can  it 
be  possible  that  from  some  far-away  spirit  land 
you  have  guided  him  to  me  to  test  my  skill?  God 
alone  can  tell !  At  least,  I  must  think  so  and  save 
him.  I  will  save  him !  For  your  sake,  Melicent, 
I  will  save  him !  " 

He  rose,  walked  into  the  chamber,  and  stood 
in  meditative  silence  beside  the  bed,  his  gaze  fixed 
upon  the  marble  features  before  him. 

"  Yes,"  he  said  aloud,  speaking  softly ;  "  he 
has  much  of  his  mother's  beauty ;  he  ought  to  have 
some  of  her  strength  of  character.  If  I  can  only 
check  him  on  that  downward  grade  on  which  he 
is  evidently  well  started!  If?"  his  air  suddenly 
changed  to  one  of  determination ;  his  eyes  blazed 
with  the  birth-light  of  a  glorious  purpose. 
"There  is  no  '  if '  in  the  case;  I  must!"  The 
last  words  were  uttered  with  much  force,  reveal- 
ing a  spark  of  the  hidden  power  lurking  beneath 
that  usually  calm  exterior.  The  tone  also  was 
louder  than  he  realized. 

A  slight  tremor  crept  over  the  frame  on  the 
bed,  followed  by  a  faint  flutter  of  the  lashes.  Al- 
most instantly,  the  lids  flew  wide  open,  and  two 
large  brown  eyes  looked  into  the  doctor's  with 
a  wild  and  startled  air. 


188      THE  SINS  OF  THE  FATHERS 

The  doctor  bent  over  the  bed,  placed  his  fingers 
on  the  wrist  of  his  patient,  and  said  kindly, 

"  Don't  be  alarmed,  my  lad,  you  are  among 
friends." 

There  was  no  response,  for  a  spasm  of  pain 
contorted  the  features  of  the  young  man ;  the 
eyelids  quivered,  drooped  languidly,  and  again  he 
lay  white  and  rigid,  as  one  in  death. 

The  doctor  returned  to  the  sitting-room,  and 
throwing  -himself  wearily  into  his  arm-chair,  sat 
for  some  moments  in  a  brown  study.  Then  rous- 
ing himself,  he  picked  up  his  newspaper,  which 
had  lain  neglected  on  the  table  at  his  elbow  all 
night.  Unfolding  it,  his  eyes  lighted  casually  on 
a  flare  headline  description  of  a  mysterious  mur- 
der which  had  been  committed  in  a  town  in  north- 
ern New  Hampshire.  He  seldom  read  such  de- 
tails ;  but  this  seemed  to  fascinate  him,  for  he 
eagerly  devoured  every  word  of  it.  He  even  read 
it  through  a  second  time,  and  partly  through  a 
third.  Then  he  rose  and  walked  the  floor  nerv- 
ously, with  his  hands  clasped  behind  him  and  his 
head  sunk  forward  on  his  breast. 

Occasionally  he  would  pause  before  the  chamber 
door  and  glance  at  the  young  man  lying  so  pale 
and  still  on  the  bed.  Presently  he  called  Norah 
and  asked  for  the  morning  papers.  She  brought 
them  in  and  laid  them  on  the  table.  Seating  him- 
self again,  he  took  up  the  paper.  His  hands 
trembled  and  cold  drops  of  perspiration  stood  out 
on  his  forehead  as  he  read  in  flaring  headlines  that 


THE  DOCTOR  HAS  A  PATIENT      189 

a  big  reward  was  offered  for  the  apprehension  of 
the  supposed  murderer,  followed  by  a  full  descrip- 
tion of  the  fugitive. 

The  paper  dropped  to  the  floor,  and  the  doc- 
tor sat  for  sometime  in  a  deep  study.  Rising 
suddenly,  he  opened  the  door  of  the  clothes-press, 
and  took  out  the  torn  and  blood-soaked  garments 
of  the  young  man.  After  carefully  examining 
the  clothing,  which  he  found  to  be  of  fine  texture 
and  of  fashionable  cut,  he  folded  each  garment 
loosely,  and  piled  them  all  together  on  the  closet 
floor.  Next,  he  opened  the  stove  door,  and  thrust- 
ing in  the  papers,  stood  and  watched  them  burst 
into  flames  and  dissolve  into  ashes.  Several  times 
that  morning  Norah  came  into  the  room  sniffing 
the  air,  and  complaining  that  she  smelled  rags 
burning.  The  doctor  pooh-poohed,  and  told  her 
that  she  was  suffering  from  a  severe  attack  of 
smokasia,  which  might  prove  fatal  if  she  did  not 
get  better  control  over  her  olfactory  nerves. 

About  the  middle  of  the  afternoon  Robert 
dropped  in  to  see  if  the  stranger  had  recovered 
consciousness,  and  to  inquire  if  the  doctor  had 
found  any  clue  to  his  identity.  Dr.  St.  John 
assured  him  that  not  a  mark  was  on  the  clothing 
which  would  throw  any  light  on  the  question  as 
to  who  the  young  man  was,  where  he  came  from, 
and  whither  he  was  going.  To  prove  which  as- 
sertion he  brought  out  a  bundle  of  torn  and  bloody 
garments  and  spread  them  out  for  Robert's  in- 
spection. Though  the  clothing  was  very  much 


190      THE  SINS  OF  THE  FATHERS 

torn  and  cut  up,  as  well  as  soaked  with  blood, 
Robert  saw  that  the  suit  was  an  ordinary  suit 
of  a  gray  mixture,  one  that  might  be  worn  either 
by  a  professional  or  a  business  man.  He  was  not 
a  trainman ;  of  that  they  were  both  convinced. 

While  talking,  the  doctor  incidentally  thrust 
his  fingers  into  the  pocket  of  the  vest  which  he 
happened  to  be  holding  in  his  hand  at  the  mo- 
ment, and  drew  forth  a  small,  white  card.  He 
gave  a  low  whistle  as  he  held  it  up,  and  began 
to  fumble  for  his  glasses,  that  he  might  read  the 
inscription.  His  glasses  not  being  in  their  usual 
place,  he  handed  the  card  to  Robert,  who  read  it 
aloud, 

"Arthur  Craig,  M.D.,  St.  Louis,  Mo." 

"  That  settles  it,"  broke  in  the  doctor.  "  He 
is  some  poor  down-and-out  devil  of  a  doctor,  who 
found  himself  stranded  somewhere  and  was  mak- 
ing his  way  home  the  best  he  could.  Supposing 
we  keep  the  matter  of  the  accident  quiet  until 
he  recovers  sufficiently  to  give  an  account  of  him- 
self. I  think  that  will  be  the  best  way  to  save 
him  from  disgrace.  You  see  if  it  gets  into  the 
papers,  we'll  have  a  host  of  inquisitive  reporters 
writing  him  up  and  spoiling  his  chances  of  re- 
demption." 

Robert  readily  agreed  with  the  doctor,  and 
went  off  to  instruct  the  few  who  knew  of  the  ac- 
cident to  keep  quiet  for  the  present. 

Several  days  elapsed  after  this  before  the  young 
man  showed  any  further  signs  of  life,  and  during 


THE  DOCTOR  HAS  A  PATIENT      191 

all  this  time  no  one  was  allowed  to  see  him  ex- 
cept Norah  and  the  doctor.  Then  a  change  came 
for  the  better,  and  within  a  week  the  doctor  gave 
out  positively  that  his  patient  would  recover ;  but 
it  would  be  months  ere  he  would  be  able  to  move 
about  with  any  sort  of  activity. 

"  Well,  my  lad,"  said  the  doctor  pleasantly, 
seating  himself  beside  the  bed,  and  placing  his  fin- 
gers on  the  fluttering  pulse  of  the  young  man, 
"  I  must  congratulate  you  on  your  grit  and  power 
of  endurance.  You  have  stood  the  ordeals  ad- 
mirably !  In  fact,  you  are  a  regular  Spartan ! 
I  think,  however,  this  is  the  end  of  the  probing. 
I  expect  the  wound  to  heal  now  without  further 
trouble." 

He  had  just  finished  dressing  the  wound  on  his 
patient's  head.  The  skull  had  been  badly  frac- 
tured; and  the  doctor  had  found  it  necessary  to 
perform  several  delicate  operations,  each  one  of 
which  had  been  a  source  of  great  anxiety  to  the 
doctor,  and  of  much  pain  to  his  patient. 

"Thank  the  gods  for  that  assurance!"  ejacu- 
lated the  young  man,  with  more  interest  and  en- 
ergy than  he  had  shown  at  any  time  since  he  came 
under  the  doctor's  charge,  some  four  weeks  past. 
"  Hell  can  have  no  more  excruciating  tortures  in 
store  for  the  votaries  of  his  Satanic  Majesty,  than 
I  have  endured  under  the  tender  mercies  of  science. 
I  have  sometimes  wondered  whether  it  was  worth 
while  to  bear  them,  or  — " 

He  smiled  grimly  at  the  doctor. 


192      THE  SINS  OF  THE  FATHERS 

"Or  what?"  The  doctor  looked  at  him 
sharply. 

"  '  A  quietus  make  with  a  bare  bobkin,'  "  he 
quoted,  meeting  the  doctor's  eyes  with  an  unflinch- 
ing stare. 

A  shade  of  sorrow  settled  on  the  old  doctor's 
face. 

"  Ah,  my  lad,  I  fear  you  have  a  wrong  concep- 
tion of  life,"  he  said  after  a  moment's  pause,  shak- 
ing his  head  sadly.  "  Life  is  a  priceless  gift,  not 
to  be  held  lightly,  or  cast  aside  on  the  calumnious 
whispers  of  that  whimsical  jade,  Despondency." 

"  That  depends  altogether  on  the  life  in  ques- 
tion, Doctor.  Some  lives  are  worthless.  It 
would  be  a  boon  to  mankind  could  such  be  snuffed 
out  in  the  cradle  before  they  become  a  curse  on 
the  face  of  the  earth !  " 

His  voice  had  a  ring  of  bitterness,  and  his  eyes 
wandered  off  with  a  dejected  air  to  a  picture  on 
the  wall  at  the  foot  of  the  bed. 

"  Who  is  to  judge  of  the  value  of  a  human  life? 
Is  it  you  or  I,  with  our  insignificant  knowledge 
of  the  universe  and  its  boundless  possibilities,  or 
God  who  created  it,  and  who,  with  his  infinite 
power  and  marvelous  wisdom,  ordains  all  things 
for  some  wise  purpose?  "  The  doctor  had  as- 
sumed a  serious  and  reverent  tone;  and  he  im- 
pressed his  patient  as  being  very  much  in  earnest. 

"  I  ought  to  respect  your  opinion,"  he  said 
humbly,  his  eyes  still  resting  on  the  picture  on 
the  wall ;  "  but  you  see,  Doctor,  I  have  had  time 


to  reflect  while  I  have  been  lying  here,  and  I  can't 
help  thinking  that  the  world  would  be  little  the 
poorer  could  I  shuffle  off  this  mortal  coil  and  yield 
the  space  I  occupy  to  some  worthier  man." 

The  doctor  smiled,  dropped  the  emaciated  wrist, 
rubbed  his  hands  together  gleefully,  and  chuckled. 

"  Glad  to  know  you  have  been  reflecting,  my 
boy ;  glad  to  know  you  have  been  reflecting ! 
There  is  some  hope  for  the  future  of  the  young 
man  who  takes  time  for  reflection.  As  for  the 
shuffling  off,  my  boy,  don't  think  of  it ;  it's  a  bar- 
barous thought !  "  His  mouth  puckered  up  and 
his  whole  face  wrinkled  into  a  frown.  "  At  least," 
he  continued  after  a  moment's  pause,  his  face  sud- 
denly resuming  its  normal  lines,  "  at  least  not 
while  you  have  a  fighting  chance  to  live.  It 
wouldn't  be  complimentary  to  my  skill,  you  see ; 
and  it  wouldn't  be  just  to  yourself.  Why,  man, 
the  best  part  of  your  life  is  before  you ! " 

"  But  you  don't  know  the  devil  that  is  in  me, 
Doctor ! "  he  burst  forth,  his  eyes  full  of  a  des- 
perate purpose. 

"  I  know  all  I  care  to  know,  lad,  all  I  care  to 
know,"  he  interrupted.  "  Just 

'  Let  the  dead  past  bury  its  dead/ 

and  only  look  at  the  future."  His  eyes  took  on 
a  dreamy  expression  and  his  voice  softened  to  a 
mellow,  silvery  tone.  "  A  brilliant  career  awaits 
you,  lad;  a  brilliant  career  awaits  you  if — "  he 


194-      THE  SINS  OF  THE  FATHERS 

broke  off  abruptly  and  raised  his  eyes  to  the  pic- 
ture on  the  wall  at  the  foot  of  the  bed. 

"  If?  "  questioned  the  young  man  eagerly,  fol- 
lowing the  bent  of  the  doctor's  eyes. 

The  picture  to  which  the  eyes  of  both  men  had 
instinctively  turned  was  a  portrait,  showing  the 
head  and  bust  of  a  young  woman  not  more  than 
eighteen  years  of  age.  It  was  a  beautiful  face 
that  looked  out  of  that  canvas,  round,  full,  sym- 
metrical, and  encircled  by  a  mass  of  light-brown 
hair.  The  lips  wore  a  smile,  which  gave  shadowy 
dimples  to  the  cheeks  and  a  touch  of  life  to  the 
whole  face.  But  in  the  eyes  lurked  the  charm. 
They  were  large,  liquid,  of  the  same  color  as  the 
hair,  and  strangely  fascinating.  They  seemed  to 
chide,  plead,  scold,  pity,  encourage,  and  approve 
by  turns ;  and  the  young  man  had  grown  accus- 
tomed to  appeal  to  them  for  courage  and  strength 
to  bear  the  pains  that  racked  his  shattered  body 
during  those  past  weary  weeks. 

The  young  man's  eyes  filled  with  a  marvelous 
brightness  as  they  rested  on  that  face  now,  and 
he  blushed  crimson  when  the  doctor's  eyes  sud- 
denly returned  to  his  face  with  a  penetrating  look 
and  caught  the  telltale  light  shining  through  that 
enraptured  gaze.  The  doctor  pretended  not  to 
see  his  patient's  confusion,  and  struck  directly  at 
the  point  in  issue,  and  answered  the  "  if,"  which 
had  been  left  hanging  in  the  air. 

"  If  you  will  remain  with  me,  and  be  guided 
by  my  counsel,  absolutely,  for  the  next  five  years 


THE  DOCTOR  HAS  A  PATIENT      195 

at  least."  He  spoke  slowly,  as  though  weighing 
his  words  carefully,  scrutinizing  his  patient 
keenly  the  while  to  note  the  effect  of  the  proposi- 
tion. 

A  look  of  blank  amazement  flitted  across  his 
face,  and  his  mental  faculties  worked  with  remark- 
able rapidity  for  the  few  seconds  he  remained 
silent,  gazing  inquiringly  into  the  doctor's  face. 

"  Doctor,"  he  said  abruptly,  then  paused. 

"  Yes,"  encouraged  the  doctor. 

"  I  am  in  your  home?  " 

"  Yes." 

"  How  came  I  here  ?  " 

"  I  had  you  brought  here  after  the  mishap." 

"  What  was  the  mishap  ?  " 

"  You  have  me  there,  lad,"  he  said,  shaking  his 
head  dubiously.  "  As  near  as  I  can  make  out, 
you  were  swept  from  the  top  of  a  freight  car  as 
it  entered  the  covered  bridge  below  the  village. 
Now,  will  you  explain  how  you  came  to  be  on  the 
top  of  that  car?  " 

"  Yes,"  he  answered  frankly.  "  I  left  my  train 
at  the  junction  where  we  had  five  minutes  to  wait, 
and  went  into  a  nearby  saloon  to  get  a  drink. 
When  I  returned,  my  train  had  gone;  and  I  was 
told  that  no  other  train  would  leave  there  till 
morning,  except  a  freight  which  was  then  stand- 
ing on  a  siding.  It  was  then  about  four  o'clock 
in  the  afternoon,  and  I  saw  at  a  glance  that  the 
place  was  a  little,  one-horse  concern,  the  only  ac- 
commodation for  travelers  being  the  tavern  whose 


196      THE  SINS  OF  THE  FATHERS 

bar  I  had  just  patronized.  I  was  chagrined  at 
my  predicament ;  and  to  make  matters  worse,  the 
train  men  guyed  me  for  missing  my  train.  I  had 
no  money  to  pay  for  a  night's  lodging,  for  I  had 
spent  my  last  cent  on  the  drink,  and  I  began 
scratching  my  wits  to  find  a  way  out  of  my 
dilemma.  Finally,  a  happy  thought  struck  me. 
I  sauntered  off,  took  a  roundabout  cut  through 
the  bushes  and  came  out  at  the  rear  end  of  that 
train.  Watching  my  chance,  I  climbed  up  on  the 
last  car,  and  stretching  myself  flat  along  the  roof, 
I  lay  low  till  the  train  pulled  out  and  cleared  the 
town ;  then  I  sat  up  and  took  a  survey  of  my  sur- 
roundings. At  first  I  rather  enjoyed  the  novelty 
of  my  situation;  but  after  riding  over  a  vast 
stretch  of  snow-covered  country,  with  an  icy  blast 
cutting  the  edges  of  my  ears  and  taking  an  occa- 
sional dash  down  my  spinal  column,  my  ardor 
cooled,  and  I  began  to  wish  I  had  not  ventured 
on  my  foolhardy  journey.  The  next  thing  I 
knew  I  found  myself  in  this  bed,  unable  to  move, 
and  racked  with  the  most  horrible  pain.  How 
long  have  I  been  here  ?  " 

"  Nearly  five  weeks,"  replied  the  doctor. 

"  Nearly  five  weeks,"  he  repeated  in  surprise ; 
"  and  in  all  that  time  you  have  not  once  asked  me 
who  I  am," 

"  There  was  no  need  to  ask,  I  knew  you,"  said 
the  doctor,  smiling. 

He  looked  at  the  doctor  searchingly. 


THE  DOCTOR  HAS  A  PATIENT      197 

"  But  I  don't  know  you." 

"  Nothing  strange  about  that,  my  lad,"  re- 
turned the  doctor  dryly. 

"  When  and  where  did  I  ever  meet  you  before?  " 

"  You  never  met  me  before." 

"  Then  how  do  you  know  who  I  am?  " 

"  To  be  perfectly  frank  with  you,  my  lad,  I 
recognized  you  by  the  remarkable  resemblance  you 
bear  to  your  mother,  whom  I  knew  in  my  youth, 
and  whose  picture  hangs  there,"  pointing  to  the 
portrait  on  the  wall  above  the  foot  of  the  bed. 

"  My  mother ! "  he  exclaimed  in  amazed  tones, 
his  eyes  following  the  wave  of  the  doctor's  hand. 
"  Yes,  I  see  it  now ;  and  here  I've  been  racking 
my  brain  for  the  last  two  weeks  trying  to  recall 
where  I  had  seen  that  face  before.  We  have  a 
portrait  at  home,  but  not  like  this ;  it  is  full- 
length,  and  shows  her  in  maturity ;  that  is  why 
I  did  not  recognize  this.  Yet,  the  eyes  and  the 
mouth  have  the  same  expression.  She  was  very 
beautiful  ?  "  he  half  questioned,  tuniing  his  eyes 
to  the  doctor's  face. 

"  Yes,"  he  replied  slowly,  a  look  of  tenderness 
creeping  into  his  mild  gray  eyes.  "  She  was  in- 
deed beautiful ;  and  good  as  she  was  beautiful !  " 
Then  hastening  to  change  the  subject,  lest  the 
young  man  should  penetrate  the  secret  which  had 
lain  dormant  for  over  fifty  years,  he  said,  "  You 
wore  a  ring  which  I  also  recognized;  do  you  know 
anything  about  its  history  ?  " 


198      THE  SINS  OF  THE  FATHERS 

"  A  very  little,"  he  said  reluctantly,  raising  his 
eyes  to  the  beautiful  face  looking  down  from  the 
canvas. 

"  There  were  two?  " 

"  Yes." 

"Who  has  the  other?" 

"  My  twin  brother." 

"  Did  your  father  not  tell  you  anything  about 
the  ring  when  he  gave  it  to  you  ?  "  he  asked,  lean- 
ing eagerly  forward  to  catch  the  answer. 

"  Yes ;  but  I  didn't  pay  much  attention  to  what 
he  said,  I  was  so  taken  up  with  the  ring.  I  did 
gather,  however,  that  the  rings  were  a  wedding 
gift  to  my  mother  from  a  lifelong  friend  in 
India." 

"  Did  he  tell  you  his  name?  " 

"  Yes ;  I  think  it  was  St.  John ;  he  was  a  doc- 
tor, I  believe." 

"  Is  that  all  you  know?  " 

"  All  I  can  remember  at  present." 

The  doctor  rose,  clasped  his  hands  behind  his 
back,  bowed  his  head  so  that  his  chin  rested  on 
his  broad  chest,  and  paced  the  narrow  chamber 
in  a  thoughtful  mood.  After  a  few  turns  back 
and  forth  he  paused  in  front  of  the  bed,  and  look- 
ing down  into  the  pale  face,  he  said: 

"  Well  I  am  that  Dr.  St.  John  who  sent  those 
rings  to  your  mother."  His  words  came  with  a 
deliberation  which  betokened  a  reluctance  to  tell 
more  than  was  absolutely  necessary  to  explain 
his  interest  in  the  well-being  of  his  patient. 


THE  DOCTOR  HAS  A  PATIENT      199 

"  You !  Dr.  St.  John  !  "  exclaimed  the  young 
man  in  amazement,  bringing  his  eyes  to  bear  on 
the  doctor's  inscrutable  face ;  "  why,  I  understood 
he  was  in  India ;  that  he  meant  to  end  his  days 
there;  and  that  he  was  to  be  laid  at  last  in 
the  mausoleum  of  some  native  rajah,  to  whose 
person  he  was  attached." 

"  Such  were  my  intentions,"  he  said  slowly,  set- 
tling himself  back  in  his  chair  and  folding  his  arms 
across  his  breast,  "  but  princes  die  as  well  as  or- 
dinary men;  and  unfortunately,  or  perhaps,  for- 
tunately for  me,  my  old  friend  the  rajah  died  first, 
and  his  nephew,  a  man  well  towards  middle  age, 
and  of  a  vicious  disposition,  fell  heir  to  his  title 
and  vast  estates.  This  nephew  had  long  been 
jealous  of  his  uncle's  love  and  respect  for  me, 
and  of  my  influence  at  the  palace.  No  sooner 
was  the  old  rajah  laid  at  rest  than  the  new  rajah 
repudiated  all  the  vows  and  solemn  promises  which 
the  former  had  made ;  and  I  was  secretly  informed 
that  he  was  even  trying  to  trump  up  a  charge 
against  me  in  connection  with  his  uncle's  death, 
which  had  occurred  under  suspicious  circum- 
stances. It  seems  that  the  nephew  had  called  at 
the  palace  that  morning,  and  finding  his  uncle 
a  little  indisposed,  induced  him  to  drink  a  glass 
of  wine.  After  drinking  the  wine  the  old  rajah 
complained  of  a  nausea,  and  the  nephew  immedi- 
ately left  the  palace.  The  old  rajah  grew  rapidly 
worse  and  died  within  the  hour.  I  was  in  Cal- 
cutta at  the  time,  and  did  not  hear  of  his  death 


200      THE  SINS  OF  THE  FATHERS 

until  the  day  of  the  burial,  too  late  to  be  present 
at  the  obsequies.  This,  of  course,  gave  rise  to 
comment,  and  presented  the  opportunity  for  the 
insidious  whispers  of  the  new  rajah.  That  I  had 
been  in  Calcutta  for  two  weeks  previous  to  the 
death  of  the  old  rajah  mattered  not,  so  far  as  the 
designs  of  the  nephew  were  concerned ;  for  I  was 
all  masterful  in  my  arts,  and  could  use  my  charms 
and  conjurations  from  a  distance  with  the  same 
effect  as  if  near.  I  knew  the  enmity  and  the 
power  of  the  new  rajah  too  well  to  risk  falling 
into  his  clutches,  so  I  quietly  settled  up  my  af- 
fairs and  took  passage  on  the  first  steamer  bound 
for  England,  and  set  out  for  my  native  land. 
When  I  arrived  in  America  I  found  very  few  peo- 
ple whom  I  knew,  or  who  knew  me,  except  by  repu- 
tation ;  so  I  settled  down  in  this  little  haven, 
where  I  now  expect  to  end  my  days.  Having  ex- 
plained my  presence  in  America,  what  do  you  say 
to  my  proposal?  " 

"  Doctor,"  he  said  slowly,  "  I  will  be  frank  with 
you,  as  you  have  been  with  me.  I  would  gladly 
accept  your  offer  did  I  not  feel  it  would  be  scur- 
rilous in  me  to  take  advantage  of  a  man  so  gener- 
ous-hearted as  you  have  shown  yourself  to  be. 
You  see,  Doctor,  you  don't  know  what  a  devil  I 
am  when  my  blood  is  up." 

"  What  a  devil  I  have  been,  say,"  corrected  the 
doctor  smiling. 

"  Oh,  it's  all  the  same,"  he  replied  with  a  dis- 
consolate air,  and  his  lashes  drooped  wearily  on 


THE  DOCTOR  HAS  A  PATIENT      201 

his  cheeks ;  "  I  have  been,  and  am  still,  an  ugly 
specimen  of  a  man." 

"  I  believe  in  regeneration,"  said  the  doctor 
gently. 

The  young  man  laughed  bitterly,  and  asked, 

"  Can  the  devil  clap  wings  on  himself  in  an 
instant  and  pass  for  an  angel  ?  " 

"  He  might ;  and  then  meet  the  fate  of  Icarus 
in  his  zeal  to  play  the  part  well.  But  I  am  not 
looking  for  wings,  my  lad,  I  know  the  spirit  of 
youth  too  well  to  expect  a  crop  of  angels  to  spring 
from  the  sowing  of  wild  oats;  all  I  ask  is,  that 
you  will  remain  with  me  and  make  an  effort  to 
redeem  the  past.  I  know  you  can  do  it  if  you 
will  but  try." 

"  Do  you  mean  that  I  can  overcome  my  inher- 
ent devilishness  ?  " 

"  Yes." 

Again  that  impish  laugh  rang  out,  much  to  the 
discomfort  of  the  doctor,  who  saw  an  impatient 
look  flit  across  the  young  man's  eyes. 

"Do  you  not  credit  it?"  he  asked  kindly,  lay- 
ing his  fingers  on  his  patient's  pulse. 

"  No !  I  have  tried,  God  knows  how  hard  and 
often,  and  failed  every  time ! "  he  said  almost 
fiercely. 

"  There  will  be  no  more  failures,  my  lad,  if  you 
will  trust  yourself  in  my  hands  and  be  guided  by 
my  advice,"  said  the  doctor,  pressing  the  delicate 
hand  that  lay  helpless  on  the  white  coverlet. 

"  You  don't  understand,  Doctor.     I  would  only 


202      THE  SINS  OF  THE  FATHERS 

cause  you  sorrow  and  bring  disgrace  on  you  in 
the  end."  His  voice  trembled  slightly  and  a  faint 
blush  of  shame  crept  into  his  cheeks. 

"  Let  me  ask  one  question  before  we  discuss  this 
matter  further,"  said  the  doctor  kindly.  "  Have 
you  felt  any  inclination  to  play  the  devil  since  you 
have  been  under  my  roof?  " 

"  No,"  he  replied  quickly,  raising  his  eyes  to 
his  mother's  picture ;  "  I  couldn't  think  evil  with 
those  eyes  looking  into  my  very  soul." 

"  Capital !  "  said  the  doctor,  with  a  low  chuckle ; 
"  it  is  a  good  sign  when  the  silent  eyes  of  a  sainted 
mother  can  drive  away  evil  thoughts  from  the 
mind  of  a  wayward  son.  There  is  hope  for  that 
son,  my  lad,  there  is  hope  for  that  son !  Only 
say  you  will  stay  with  me,  and  we  shall  fight  the 
demon  together !  aye,  and  conquer  him !  " 

"  You  are  very  kind,  Doctor !  " 

"Never  mind  the  kindness;  yes,  or  no?" 

The  young  man  looked  straight  into  those  hon- 
est gray  eyes,  and  murmured, 

"  Yes." 

"  Your  name  is  to  be  Arthur  Craig." 

"  Yes." 

He  could  not  have  said  otherwise,  had  he  wished, 
for  the  gray  eyes  held  him  as  in  a  trance.  He 
was  tired  also,  and  he  felt  a  drowsiness  creeping 
over  him. 

"  For  five  years  ?  " 

"  For  five  years,"  he  repeated  softly. 

"  That  will  do,  now  go  to  sleep ! "  and  dropping 


THE  DOCTOR  HAS  A  PATIENT      203 

the   slender   wrist,   the  doctor   rose  and  left  the 
room. 

"  Arthur  Craig,"  repeated  the  young  man  in  a 
half  dreamy  tone  as  the  doctor  passed  beyond  his 
vision ;  "  Arthur  Craig,  that  is  my  name !  "  In- 
stinctively, he  raised  his  eyes  to  that  face  to  which 
he  had  become  accustomed  to  look  for  help  in  time 
of  perplexity  and  pain.  It  seemed  to  smile  ap- 
proval on  his  decision,  and  a  great  peace  came 
over  his  troubled  soul.  After  gazing  at  it  for 
sometime,  his  eyelids  drooped  wearily  and  he  was 
soon  fast  asleep. 


CHAPTER  Xlll 
A  PLEASANT  HOUR 

Winter  wore  slowly  away.  Spring  came  and 
went.  Still  the  doctor's  patient  had  recovered 
only  so  far  as  to  be  able  to  sit  on  the  piazza  in 
a  wheel-chair;  and  so  far  as  the  old  doctor's  word 
went,  it  would  be  several  months  more  ere  he 
would  be  strong  enough  to  trust  his  weight  on 
crutches.  Otherwise,  the  doctor  was  very  san- 
guine. There  would  be  no  permanent  lameness 
or  deformity  of  any  sort.  So  the  doctor  informed 
the  young  man  and  all  persons  interested  in  him. 

He  had  changed  greatly  in  appearance.  No 
one  who  had  seen  the  smooth,  boyish  face  of  six 
months  ago  would  recognize  it  now  under  the  dark 
Vandyke  beard  and  mustache  which  had  been  cul- 
tivated with  care  and  no  little  show  of  pride.  He 
had  lost  weight ;  and  to  the  doctor,  he  seemed  to 
have  grown  taller  by  several  inches.  He  was  very 
pale;  which  was  not  to  be  wondered  at  when  one 
thinks  of  his  long  confinement  within  doors,  and 
of  the  racking  tortures  he  had  endured. 

The  old  doctor  had  grown  very  fond  of  him 
during  those  trying  months  for  he  had  been  very 
patient  through  it  all,  and  had  shown  great  forti- 
tude in  moments  of  intense  suffering.     And  he  in 
204 


A  PLEASANT  HOUR  205 

turn  had  learned  to  love  and  respect  the  eccentric 
old  man  with  a  devotion  wholly  new  to  himself. 

The  doctor  found  him  bright  and  witty  and 
very  companionable.  The  winter  seemed  to  be 
sunnier  and  to  pass  more  quickly  because  of  his 
presence.  While  he  talked  freely  on  many  sub- 
jects, on  the  whole,  he  was  reticent  as  to  him- 
self and  his  past.  He  did,  however,  vouchsafe 
this  much:  that  he  held  a  doctor's  degree,  though 
he  had  never  practiced.  All  questions  by  the  doc- 
tor relating  to  his  family  or  to  himself,  after 
that  first  conversation,  were  adroitly  headed  off 
by  the  assertion: 

"  Arthur  Craig  has  no  family  connections,  no 
past  history;  he  has  nothing  but  himself  and  the 
future." 

This  answer  pleased  the  old  doctor  immensely 
and  sent  him  off  chuckling  to  himself  in  great 
glee. 

When  his  patient  had  so  far  recovered  as  to 
find  time  dragging  on  his  hands,  the  old  doctor 
insisted  on  his  resuming  his  medical  studies.  The 
old  doctor  was  interested  in  several  experiments 
for  the  treatment  of  consumptives  and  he  soon  got 
the  young  man  absorbed  in  the  work.  After  that 
there  was  no  dragging  of  time  for  the  young  doc- 
tor, for  he  worked  assiduously  and  soon  proved 
himself  an  adept  in  chemistry.  One  of  the  rooms 
had  been  fitted  up  as  a  laboratory,  and  into  this 
room  the  young  man  was  wheeled  daily  for  a  few 
hours'  experimental  work. 


206      THE  SINS  OF  THE  FATHERS 

But  it  had  not  been  all  work  and  pain  for  the 
young  man  during  those  days  of  convalescence. 
Robert  Cole  had  been  a  regular  caller  from  the 
first  and  had  taken  great  interest  in  the  stranger 
within  his  gates.  Scarcely  a  day  passed  that  he 
did  not  drop  in  to  have  a  chat  with  him  and  to 
bring  him  a  book  from  his  own  library.  Mrs. 
Cole  had  also  taken  a  fancy  to  him  and  made  a 
point  of  keeping  him  well  supplied  with  choice 
fruits  and  flowers  from  the  Oakwood  conservato- 
ries, either  carrying  them  herself  or  sending  Bell 
over  with  them.  The  villagers  too,  in  various 
ways,  showed  their  admiration  for  the  plucky  fel- 
low who  had  won  out  in  his  uneven  fight  with 
death. 

The  only  person  who  seemed  to  pass  him  over 
was  Bell  Cole.  She  felt  no  interest  in  him  one 
way  or  another,  and  therefore  showed  none. 
When  her  mother  sent  her  over  to  the  doctor's 
with  flowers  for  the  invalid,  she  would  simply  hand 
the  basket  to  the  doctor  or  Norah,  the  house- 
keeper, with  her  mother's  compliments,  inquire 
how  Dr.  Craig  was  getting  along,  and  return 
home  with  the  message  to  her  mother. 

One  afternoon  in  the  latter  part  of  June  Dr. 
Craig  had  been  wheeled  out  into  the  sunshine  as 
usual.  Only  this  time  he  had  been  wheeled  out 
to  the  front  piazza  instead  of  to  the  one  in  the 
rear,  which  had  heretofore  been  his  sun-parlor, 
as  he  put  it.  It  was  a  welcome  change,  for  it 
opened  up  new  vistas  to  his  weary  eyes. 


A  PLEASANT  HOUR  207 

The  doctor's  grounds  adjoined  those  of  Oak- 
wood  on  the  west  hardly  two  hundred  yards  above 
the  park  gate.  The  park  comprised  a  strip  of 
land  densely  wooded  with  magnificent  oaks,  which 
extended  from  the  highway  northerly  to  the  river. 
In  the  rear  of  the  grounds  lay  an  encircling 
stretch  of  meadows,  through  which  the  river 
wound  in  placid  stillness.  Beyond  these  rose  the 
hills  in  the  distance.  The  house  itself  stood  on 
the  level  with  only  a  sntall  plat  of  velvety  lawn 
intervening  between  it  and  the  roadbed  of  the 
highway.  A  neat  iron  fence  ran  the  length  of  the 
grounds  in  front.  To  the  right  the  road  stretched 
away  with  a  winding  sweep  until  it  was  lost  among 
the  foot-hills  in  the  distance;  while  to  the  left, 
it  trailed  down  to  the  village  square.  In  front 
of  the  house,  beyond  the  road,  the  ground  shelved 
gently  downward  to  the  valley.  And  then  rose 
the  hills  in  all  their  towering  strength  and  beauty. 

It  was  a  perfect  day  that  brought  Dr.  Craig 
out  on  the  front  piazza  for  the  first  time.  The 
perfumes  of  June  were  in  every  passing  breeze 
that  swung  down  through  the  hill-gaps  and  over 
the  valley  in  lazy  puffs  that  fitfully  tousled  the 
mass  of  dark  hair  over  the  forehead  of  the  invalid, 
as  he  sat  studying  the  lights  and  shadows  of  the 
hills  in  the  foreground. 

So  rapt  was  he  in  the  contemplation  of  the 
beauteous  scenes  before  him  that  he  did  not  hear 
the  light  click  of  the  garden  gate,  nor  the  fall 
of  footsteps  coming  up  the  walk.  It  was  not  till 


208      THE  SINS  OF  THE  FATHERS 

a  shadow  fell  across  his  vision  that  he  brought  his 
eyes  back  from  the  hills  and  focused  them  on  a 
young  lady  coming  up  the  steps.  Their  eyes  met 
in  a  sort  of  mutual  recognition ;  but  he  waited  for 
her  to  speak. 

It  was  Bell  Cole  who  stood  before  him,  bring- 
ing her  mother's  regular  donation  of  fruit  and 
flowers.  He  had  heard  of  her  through  the  doctor 
and  Norah.  Even  had  he  not  heard  of  her,  he 
would  have  recognized  her  on  account  of  her 
strong  resemblance  to  Robert.  On  her  arm  hung 
a  small  fancy  basket  filled  with  luscious  strawber- 
ries, over  which,  resting  loosely  on  her  arm,  lay 
a  large  bunch  of  cut  roses.  She  presented  a 
beautiful  picture  as  she  stood  before  him,  look- 
ing as  fresh,  in  her  pretty  black  and  white  muslin 
dress  and  large  Gainsborough  hat,  as  the  roses 
that  hung  on  her  arms. 

Bell  Cole  was  not  handsome.  She  was  not  even 
pretty,  as  the  term  goes.  But  there  was  some- 
thing in  her  figure  and  in  the  poise  of  her  head 
that  counted  for  more  than  simple  beauty,  a  cer- 
tain stateliness  which  she  carried  well.  She  knew 
how  to  dress  to  make  the  most  of  her  face  and 
figure. 

That  day  in  her  role  of  Lady  Bountiful,  she 
looked  uncommonly  well ;  and  Dr.  Craig  almost 
stared  her  out  of  countenance  as  she  stood  hesitat- 
ing whether  to  speak  to  him  or  to  pass  him  by 
and  ring  the  bell.  She  colored  slightly  under  the 
steady  gaze ;  and  there  is  no  telling  what  ridicu- 


A  PLEASANT  HOUR  209 

lous  thing  she  might  have  done,  had  not  Dr.  St. 
John  made  his  appearance  and  relieved  the  situa- 
tion. 

"  Well,  well,  so  here  is  my  Lady  Bountiful 
again !  "  he  exclaimed,  coming  through  the  door 
with  outstretched  hands  to  greet  her.  "  What 
should  we  do  without  you  and  your  dear  mother! 
Let  me  relieve  you  of  your  burden,"  and  taking 
the  roses  from  her  arm,  he  buried  his  face  deep 
among  the  fragrant  blossoms.  "  Norah ! "  he 
called;  and  while  waiting  for  Norah  to  come  he 
rattled  on  like  an  elated  schoolboy.  "  Now  allow 
me  to  present  for  your  inspection  my  patient,  Dr. 
Craig;  and  I  want  you  to  tell  me  if  I  haven't 
made  a  pretty  good  specimen  of  a  man  out  of  the 
material  I  had  to  start  with.  Remember,  he  was 
smashed  almost  to  a  jelly.  And  now  look  at  him! 
In  three  weeks  more  he  will  be  able  to  ride  out 
among  the  hills ;  and  then  we  shall  see  the  color 
return  to  his  cheeks." 

Meanwhile  Norah  had  come  out  and  taken  the 
basket  and  roses,  and  the  doctor  had  brought 
forward  two  willow  chairs.  He  now  insisted  on 
Bell's  sitting  down  and  resting,  and  having  some 
refreshments  with  them  after  her  long  walk. 

Bell  had  fully  recovered  from  her  momentary 
embarrassment;  and  as  she  sank  gracefully  down 
on  the  edge  of  the  chair  which  the  doctor  had 
pushed  towards  her,  she  said  in  a  jovial  way, 

"  Now,  Doctor,  if  you  will  sit  down  and  keep 
still  for  just  one  minute  and  give  Dr.  Craig  and 


me  a  chance  to  say  *  How-do  '  to  each  other,  I 
may  be  in  a  position  to  answer  some  of  your  ques- 
tions which  you  have  been  flinging  at  me  for  the 
last  five  minutes." 

The  doctor  dropped  into  his  chair  with  a  low 
chuckle,  saying  playfully, 

"  Oh,  these  young  folks,  oh,  these  young  folks, 
they  want  to  do  all  the  talking  themselves ! " 

Dr.  Craig  laughed  and  cast  an  admiring  glance 
at  Bell. 

"  Bravo !  Miss  Cole ! "  he  cried  gayly,  "  I 
wouldn't  have  believed  that  any  mortal  could  wield 
such  an  influence  over  the  doughty  doctor  as  to 
induce  him  to  sit  down  so  submissively ;  hey 
Norah?  "  And  he  appealed  to  Norah  who  had 
brought  out  the  tea  tray  and  was  arranging  it 
on  a  small  table  in  front  of  Bell. 

"  Faith  an*  it's  Miss  Cole  as  knows  all  the  kinks 
in  the  docther's  brain,  an'  can  straighten  them  out 
with  one  little  twhist  of  her  dainty  red  tongue," 
and  Norah  cast  a  roguish  glance  at  the  doctor  as 
she  switched  past  him  into  the  house. 

They  all  laughed  at  this,  and  the  air  was  in- 
stantly cleared  of  all  stiffness  and  formality.  Bell 
settled  herself  to  the  delightful  task  of  pouring 
the  tea.  This  was  a  pleasure  she  could  seldom 
refuse ;  for  she  had  beautiful  hands  and  arms,  and 
she  never  showed  them  to  better  advantage  than 
when  in  the  act  of  pouring  tea.  She  drew  off  her 
gloves,  and  pouring  a  cup  of  the  fragrant  tea, 
handed  it  to  the  doctor. 


A  PLEASANT  HOUR 

"  I  always  give  way  to  the  sick,"  said  the  doc- 
tor, waving  her  towards  Dr.  Craig. 

"  For  once,  my  dear  doctor,  you  must  give  way 
to  a  woman,"  and  she  set  the  cup  on  the  arm  of 
his  chair.  Then  she  proceeded  to  pour  a  cup  for 
Dr.  Craig,  chatting  merrily  the  while,  relating 
delicious  bits  of  village  gossip  as  only  she  could. 

Her  lively  chatter  roused  the  loquacity  of  the 
doctor,  and  the  two  kept  up  a  fusillade  of  pleas- 
antries, while  Dr.  Craig  lay  quietly  back  in  his 
chair  and  looked  on  and  listened  to  the  sparring 
with  no  little  amusement. 

At  last  Bell  pushed  her  chair  back  and  rose  to 

g°- 

"  Oh,  surely  not  so  soon !  "  exclaimed  both  the 

doctors  in  a  breath. 

"  Not  so  soon ! "  she  repeated,  arching  her 
brows  in  mock  disapproval  of  their  protest. 
"  Why,  Dr.  St.  John,  look  at  that  clock !  I  have 
been  here  a  full  hour.  Mother  will  surely  think 
something  has  happened  to  me." 

"  Tell  her  that  I  had  you  under  observation 
for  a  severe  attack  of  tattlism  and  she  will  under- 
stand your  delay,"  he  advised  facetiously. 

"  You  see  how  he  resorts  to  professional  lan- 
guage to  faze  me,  which  isn't  fair,"  she  said  in  ac- 
cusing tones,  turning  to  Dr.  Craig  as  if  for  vindi- 
cation. Then  changing  suddenly,  before  he  had 
time  to  frame  an  answer,  she  said,  "  I  suppose  we 
have  bored  you  so  much  that  you  will  rejoice  at 
my  departure." 


212      THE  SINS  OF  THE  FATHERS 

"  The  gods  forbid  that  you  should  harbor  such 
a  thought !  "  he  exclaimed  earnestly.  "  It  is  quite 
the  contrary,  I  assure  you.  I  have  enjoyed  your 
call  so  much  that  I  was  about  to  plead  the  privi- 
lege of  an  invalid  to  beg  of  you  to  repeat  it  very 
soon."  He  held  out  his  hand  in  a  delicate,  plead- 
ing gesture,  and  raised  his  eyes  to  hers  with  a 
look  of  infinite  admiration. 

She  placed  her  hand  in  his  without  the  least 
hesitation.  In  fact,  she  could  not  have  done  other- 
wise after  their  eyes  met.  Had  she  not  been  act- 
ing under  the  lure  of  his  charmed  presence  for 
the  last  hour?  Although  he  had  spoken  scarcely 
a  dozen  words  during  all  that  time,  his  very  near- 
ness had  sent  the  blood  rushing  through  her  veins ; 
and  now  she  felt  herself  powerless  to  resist  the 
fascination  of  his  beseeching  dark  eyes. 

As  his  fingers  closed  over  hers  a  delicious  thrill 
shot  through  her  whole  being,  such  as  she  had 
never  felt  before ;  and  she  allowed  him  to  retain 
her  hand  while  he  exacted  a  promise  that  she  would 
come  again  on  the  morrow. 

Bell  turned  away  as  soon  as  he  released  her 
hand,  and  bidding  Dr.  St.  John  good-by,  took  her 
departure.  She  walked  briskly  down  the  path 
with  her  heart  in  a  riot  of  strange  emotions. 
Passing  through  the  gate  to  the  highway,  she 
paused,  ostensibly  to  pick  a  spray  of  brier-roses 
that  grew  by  the  roadside.  Her  act,  however, 
was  only  a  ruse  that  she  might  take  one  more 
glance  at  the  handsome  stranger  whose  presence 


A  PLEASANT  HOUR  213 

and  touch  had  thrilled  her  so  queerly.  She 
raised  her  eyes  as  she  stooped  to  pluck  the  roses 
and  met  the  gaze  of  the  invalid  bent  upon  her 
with  a  smile  that  illuminated  his  face.  Again  that 
thrill,  which  she  could  not  understand,  swept 
through  her  veins  and  quickened  her  heart  throbs. 
She  lingered  but  an  instant  under  the  spell,  yet 
brief  as  it  was,  it  seemed  a  lifetime  to  her. 

She  passed  on,  somewhat  provoked  with  herself, 
and  tried  to  shake  off  the  subtile  influence  of  his 
presence ;  and  as  she  walked  slowly  homeward, 
took  herself  to  task  for  staying  so  long.  Never- 
theless, the  next  day  found  her  basking  in  the 
smiles  of  the  interesting  invalid  on  the  genial  old 
doctor's  front  piazza,  pouring  tea  for  three  very 
merry  persons  with  all  the  guileless  simplicity  at 
her  command. 

The  days  and  weeks  came  and  went  and  still 
Bell  Cole,  on  one  pretext  or  another,  kept  up  her 
daily  calls  on  Dr.  St.  John.  Had  it  been  hinted 
to  her  that  Doctor  Craig  was  the  attraction,  she 
would  have  resented  the  implication  most  stren- 
ously ;  and  yet  most  of  her  time  while  at  the 
doctor's  was  devoted  to  his  pleasure. 

The  summer  wore  on  and  at  last  the  time  came 
when  Dr.  Craig  was  able  to  hobble  about  on 
crutches.  Then  Mrs.  Cole  and  Bell  began  to  take 
him  out  for  long  drives  over  the  country  roads. 
After  the  drives  there  were  always  delightful  little 
dinners  or  luncheons  awaiting  them  at  Oakwood, 
the  mansion  of  the  Coles. 


THE  SINS  OF  THE  FATHERS 

Being  still  in  mourning,  Mrs.  Cole  had  not  yet 
begun  to  entertain  formally,  and  it  was  only  be- 
cause of  the  close  personal  friendship  which  had 
existed  between  the  old  doctor  and  her  family, 
and  of  the  strong  attachment  which  had  grown 
up  between  him  and  Robert,  that  she  sanctioned 
even  this  semblance  of  entertainment.  Quiet  as 
these  little  affairs  were,  they  tended  to  make  the 
time  pass  more  quickly  and  pleasantly  for  Dr. 
Craig,  who,  aside  from  these,  led  a  very  retired 
life,  devoting  most  of  his  time  to  his  studies  with 
the  old  doctor. 

Dr.  St.  John  had  given  out  a  version  of  the 
young  man's  history  that  appeared  plausible ;  and 
as  his  word  was  considered  as  good  as  his  bond, 
the  explanation  was  accepted  and  no  further  ques- 
tions asked.  Mrs.  Cole  felt  justified  in  extend- 
ing to  this  young  stranger  her  hospitality.  There 
was  no  question  as  to  his  being  a  gentleman  born 
and  bred.  One  had  only  to  be  in  his  company  ten 
minutes  and  hear  him  talk  and  see  his  manners 
to  be  convinced  on  this  point.  But  the  word  of 
the  old  doctor  set  at  rest  all  doubts,  if  ever  there 
had  been  any. 

And  these  were  the  halcyon  days  for  Bell. 
Never  had  she  appeared  so  happy  and  unre- 
strained. Had  Mrs.  Cole  but  known  it,  it  was 
Bell  who  planned  the  dinners,  the  drives,  the  lunch- 
eons, and  all  the  delightful  musicales  which  fol- 
lowed ;  but  not  for  Dr.  St.  John,  though  the  dear 
old  soul  served  his  purpose  well.  And  so  time 
wore  on. 


CHAPTER  XIV 
RUTH  MEETS  DR.  CRAIG 

A  little  over  a  year  had  passed  since  Dr.  Craig 
was,  literally  speaking,  pitched  into  the  life  of 
Coleville.  For  the  most  part  the  year  had  been 
uneventful  for  our  friends.  True,  many  changes 
had  been  wrought  in  and  about  the  village; 
changes  which  helped  to  tone  up  the  whole  region 
and  to  make  a  strong  bid  among  the  people  for 
higher  ideals  in  living. 

Dr.  St.  John  with  his  wonderful  tact  had  paved 
the  way  for  the  carrying  out  of  Robert's  cherished 
projects  and  reforms.  So  gradually  had  Robert 
advanced  his  schemes  that  the  people  themselves 
had  fallen  in  with  them  and  helped  them  along 
with  more  ardor  than  he  had  ever  hoped  for  even 
in  his  most  sanguine  moments. 

Many  of  the  old  houses  had  been  torn  down  and 
new  ones  erected  in  their  places.  All  that  were 
worth  saving  had  been  remodeled  in  some  form. 
A  bay-window  had  been  added  to  this  house,  a 
porch  to  that,  and  an  ell  to  another,  according  to 
the  position  of  the  house  on  the  street  and  the 
needs  of  the  occupants.  And  to  complete  the  ef- 
fect of  newness,  every  house  stood  resplendent  in 

215 


216      THE  SINS  OF  THE  FATHERS 

a  spick-span  coat  of  fresh  paint,  each  of  a  differ- 
ent color.  This  brought  a  welcome  relief  from 
the  dead  gray  sameness  which  had  prevailed  for 
years  and  had  become  so  tiresome  to  the  eye,  and 
lent  a  restful  variety  to  the  village  streets. 

In  addition  to  this,  the  back  yards  had  been 
cleaned  of  their  ash-heaps  and  other  rubbish,  and 
transformed  into  respectable  looking  gardens, 
whose  produce  helped  to  solve  some  of  the  eco- 
nomic questions  of  the  household.  And  there 
seemed  to  be  quite  a  rivalry  among  the  tenants  as 
to  who  should  have  the  finest  vegetables  or  flow- 
ers ;  for  Dr.  St.  John  had  offered  a  prize  on  the 
quiet ;  and  the  result  was  magical. 

All  the  tumble-down  and  dilapidated  outbuild- 
ings had  been  removed.  Trees  had  been  set  out 
along  the  streets ;  new  benches  had  been  added 
to  the  green,  so  that  the  men  might  have  a  breath- 
ing place  for  their  noon-hour  rest;  and  a  library 
with  a  lecture  hall  was  in  course  of  erection. 

In  most  of  this  work  Robert  had  found  a  val- 
uable assistant  in  Dr.  Craig.  His  ideas  and  ad- 
vice were  sought  at  almost  every  point.  It  was 
at  his  suggestion  that  the  library  was  planned. 
He  had  drawn  the  plans  for  it  and  the  building 
was  now  being  carried  through  to  completion  un- 
der his  supervision.  He  was  busy  arranging  the 
catalogues  when  his  work  was  suddenly  suspended 
by  a  call  of  a  more  serious  nature. 

Winter  had  set  in  earlier  than  usual  that  year 
and  proved  to  be  one  of  the  severest  in  many 


RUTH  MEETS  DR.  CRAIG          217 

decades.  January  came  in  with  a  snap  and  sent 
everyone  shivering  into  the  chimney  corners.  The 
snow  lay  in  a  dead  cold  glitter  over  hills  and 
valleys.  The  cutting  north  winds  howled  and 
screeched  through  the  ragged  notches  in  the  hills ; 
and  sweeping  down,  moaned  dismally  among  the 
cottages  in  the  village. 

An  epidemic  of  la  grippe,  with  its  undermin- 
ing effects,  broke  out  in  the  village  and  swept 
through  like  a  scourge.  This  was  followed  by 
a  siege  of  whooping-cough,  measles,  scarlet  fever, 
and  diphtheria  among  the  children.  Hardly  a 
home  escaped.  Dr.  St.  John  was  unable  to  cope 
with  the  situation  alone;  so  he  pressed  Dr.  Craig 
into  his  service  as  assistant  and  nurse.  And  a 
most  excellent  one  he  proved  himself  to  be. 

Night  after  night  found  him  at  the  bedside 
of  some  sufferer  or  going  from  house  to  house 
on  emergency  calls.  Here  and  there  he  would  re- 
lieve a  tired  wife  or  mother  while  she  took  a  much 
needed  rest.  The  mothers  soon  learned  to  trust 
him  and  never  hesitated  to  leave  their  loved  ones 
in  his  care. 

One  morning  during  the  second  week  of  his 
watching,  he  learned  that  a  certain  young  lady 
by  the  name  of  Ruth  Bent  was  doing  for  the  peo- 
ple by  day  what  he  was  doing  for  them  by  night, 
and  even  more.  Into  whatever  house  he  went, 
Ruth  had  been  there  before  him  and  left  either 
a  delicious  custard,  some  fresh  eggs,  home-made 
wine,  pudding  or  jellies  for  the  sick.  He  had 


218      THE  SINS  OF  THE  FATHERS 

never  met  her,  had  never  even  heard  of  her  before. 
This  was  not  strange  when  we  take  into  account 
the  narrowness  of  his  circle  of  acquaintances. 
But  he  heard  enough  of  her  now;  for  her  praise 
was  sung  early  and  late  by  both  sick  and  well ; 
so  much  so,  that  his  curiosity  was  whetted  to 
keenness  to  meet  her.  Plan  as  he  would,  however, 
she  had  always  just  gone  when  he  arrived  at  the 
house  where  he  expected  to  find  her.  It  was  like 
chasing  a  will-o'-the-wisp,  and  he  began  to  doubt 
her  flesh  and  blood  existence.  Still,  the  more  il- 
lusive her  presence  became,  the  more  interesting 
she  grew  in  his  fancy.  And  thus  weeks  passed  be- 
fore the  cravings  of  his  curiosity  were  gratified. 

When  Mrs.  Bent  learned  of  the  sickness  in  the 
village,  she  immediately  packed  a  basket  with 
delicacies  and  sent  Milly  to  distribute  them  among 
the  sick  and  needy.  Ruth  had  insisted  on  ac- 
companying her;  and  it  was  while  going  from 
house  to  house  on  this  mission  of  mercy  that  her 
sympathy  was  aroused  in  behalf  of  the  worn-out, 
half  sick  mothers,  who  were  trying  their  best  to 
bear  up  under  the  severe  strain. 

When  she  returned  home  from  that  first  round 
of  calls  on  the  sick,  Ruth  coaxed  her  grandmother 
into  allowing  her  to  go  each  day  to  help  in  the 
care  of  the  sick.  Mrs.  Bent  gave  her  consent, 
though  reluctantly.  Then  Ruth  presented  her- 
self to  Dr.  St.  John,  who  was  delighted  with  the 
prospect  of  having  another  nurse  at  his  command. 
He  planned  her  comings  and  goings  for  the  day 


RUTH  MEETS  DR.  CRAIG          219 

with  the  same  methodical  exactness  that  he 
planned  Dr.  Craig's  for  the  night.  There  was  no 
design,  however,  on  his  part  to  prevent  a  meeting 
between  the  two  nurses.  Why  should  there  have 
been  when  he  knew  nothing  of  the  soaring  fancies 
of  his  young  friend? 

One  morning  about  the  middle  of  March,  Dr. 
Craig  stepped  into  the  library  to  see  how  the  work 
was  progressing.  Robert  was  in  the  corridor 
when  he  entered,  and  came  forward  with  out- 
stretched hand. 

"  This  is  indeed  a  pleasure !  I  take  your  com- 
ing here  at  this  time  of  day  as  a  good  omen.  The 
doctor  informed  me  a  week  ago  that  the  danger 
line  was  past  and  not  a  single  death  recorded. 
Bravo,  my  boy !  " 

"  Yes ;  all  are  now  well  on  the  road  to  complete 
recovery,"  replied  Dr.  Craig  with  a  smile. 
"  Another  week  or  so  will  finish  my  services  as 
nurse.  Then  I  shall  be  at  liberty  to  resume  my 
work  on  the  cataloguing.  I  thought  I  would  just 
step  in  to  see  how  near  the  building  is  to  comple- 
tion, so  that  I  might  judge  how  far  behind  I  am 
in  my  work." 

"  Don't  give  yourself  any  uneasiness  on  that 
score.  You  must  have  a  little  rest  before  you 
begin  your  work  on  the  books  again."  Then  plac- 
ing his  arm  across  Dr.  Craig's  shoulder,  he  con- 
tinued with  a  show  of  deep  feeling,  "  You  can 
never  know  how  much  I  appreciate  your  services, 
Arthur,  nor  how  much  they  have  meant  to  me  dur- 


220      THE  SINS  OF  THE  FATHERS 

ing  these  past  weeks.  It  seems  a  bit  of  irony  on 
the  part  of  Fate  to  send  this  plague  upon  us  after 
my  spending  so  many  thousands  of  dollars  on  im- 
provements and  sanitation  in  the  town.  Nothing 
like  it  has  ever  been  known  in  this  region  before. 
Of  course,  you  know  I  have  to  take  my  medicine 
at  home.  Bell  could  see  no  good  to  come  from 
these  vast  expenditures  of  money  in  the  beginning; 
she  sees  less  now.  She  calls  me  a  crank  on  sanita- 
tion, and  says  that  all  this  cleaning  up  has  had 
a  bad  effect  on  the  health  of  the  people." 

They  both  laughed. 

"  Nevertheless,  there  is  no  telling  where  the 
trouble  would  have  ended  if  the  cleaning  up  had 
not  been  done.  That  there  have  been  no  deaths 
is  partly  due  to  the  present  good  condition  of  the 
homes,  and  partly  to  the  robust  constitutions  of 
the  people  to  begin  with.  There  is  only  one  per- 
son now  of  whom  we  have  any  fears.  He  is  that 
queer  little  hunchback,  Dick  Stanton.  We  fear 
hip  disease  has  set  in.  I  wish  you  would  walk 
over  to  the  house  with  me  and  see  him.  I  feel 
sorry  for  him;  for  the  Lord  knows  he  has  afflic- 
tion enough  without  that." 

They  left  the  building  together  and  walked 
briskly  down  the  road  to  the  Stanton  cottage. 
On  the  way  Dr.  Craig  gave  Robert  a  detailed  ac- 
count of  the  case,  which  he  had  just  finished  when 
they  reached  the  door. 

Dr.  Craig  rapped  and  waited  for  the  well-known 
"  Come  in  "  of  Nell  Stanton.  It  did  not  come. 


RUTH  MEETS  DR.  CRAIG          9,91 

The  door  opened  instead  and  Ruth  Bent  stood  be- 
fore him  with  her  hand  on  the  latch. 

He  gave  a  slight  start  and  the  faintest  flush 
mounted  to  his  cheeks ;  and  for  a  moment  he  stood 
speechless.  He  had  been  hoping  for  just  such  an 
accidental  meeting  for  weeks,  and  now  it  had 
come,  he  felt  abashed.  Was  it  because  of  the 
presence  of  Robert  Cole?  He  could  not  tell. 

Ruth  did  not  see  Robert,  for  he  stood  a  little 
to  one  side.  Neither  did  Robert  see  her;  but  he 
did  see  the  start  and  the  blush,  and  was  at  a  loss 
to  account  for  them  until  Ruth  spoke.  Then  a 
pang  of  jealousy  shot  through  his  heart;  but  he 
had  no  time  to  indulge  in  speculations. 

"  I  suppose  you  have  come  to  see  Dick,"  she 
half  questioned,  after  waiting  a  moment  for  him 
to  speak. 

"  Yes,"  he  answered,  recovering  his  self-pos- 
session. 

"  Then  of  course  you  will  come  in,"  she  said 
with  a  quizzical  smile  in  her  eyes,  stepping  aside 
and  opening  the  door  a  trifle  wider  for  him  to 
enter.  Then  she  saw  Robert.  Her  heart  gave 
a  great  throb ;  the  smile  died  in  her  eyes ;  but  she 
did  not  lose  her  presence  of  mind  entirely.  Their 
eyes  met.  She  thought  she  saw  a  shadow  on  his 
face,  and  it  pained  her.  Still  it  would  never  do 
for  him  to  know  that  she  cared;  so  forcing  a 
smile,  she  bade  him  "  Good  morning  "  and  stood 
aside  for  him  to  enter. 

Dr.  Craig  passed  at  once  into  the  room  where 


8££      THE  SINS  OF  THE  FATHERS 

Dick  lay  propped  up  among  the  pillows,  and  beck- 
oned Robert  to  follow.  Reaching  the  threshold 
of  the  sick-room,  Robert  stopped  abruptly  as  he 
met  the  eyes  of  the  sick  man  fixed  upon  him  with 
a  peculiar  expression  that  almost  unnerved  him 
for  a  second.  Dick  dropped  his  eyes  quickly  and 
turned  his  attention  to  Dr.  Craig.  Robert  in- 
stantly recovered  himself  and  entered  the  chamber. 

After  closing  the  outer  door,  Ruth  walked  over 
to  the  window  and  stood  looking  out.  She  wanted 
time  to  compose  herself.  It  took  but  a  moment; 
then  she  turned  to  the  bedroom  door. 

"  Miss  Stanton  is  lying  down,"  she  explained. 
"  Dick  was  very  restless  all  night  and  she  had  to 
be  up  with  him  most  of  the  time.  If  you  need 
anything  I  can  get  it  for  you." 

"  Nothing  at  present,"  answered  Dr.  Craig, 
looking  up  at  her  from  where  he  sat  at  the  bed- 
side. "  You  may  come  in,  if  you  wish,  and  see 
that  I  do  not  hurt  your  patient." 

She  did  not  accept  his  permissive  invitation, 
however.  She  remained  standing  in  the  doorway 
watching  his  every  movement,  for  she  had  her 
curiosity  to  gratify.  She  had  heard  as  much 
about  this  Dr.  Craig  as  he  had  heard  about  her, 
perhaps  a  trifle  more;  for  his  intimacy  with  the 
Coles  had  kept  the  people  guessing  and  their 
tongues  wagging  for  some  time  past. 

While  he  examined  Dick  and  conversed  in  un- 
dertones with  Robert,  she  studied  him  with  increas- 
ing interest;  and  as  she  caught  the  animated  play 


RUTH  MEETS  DR.  CRAIG 

of  his  handsome  features,  she  wondered  just  how 
far  he  reciprocated  Bell's  ardent  passion.  That 
Bell  Cole  was  madly  in  love  with  this  handsome, 
stranger  was  well  known.  Bell  herself  made  no 
secret  of  it.  In  fact,  she  rather  paraded  it, — 
paraded  it  so  much  that  her  infatuation  verged 
on  the  ridiculous. 

For  the  first  time  in  her  life  a  strange  tempta- 
tion came  into  Ruth's  heart  as  she  stood  watch- 
ing this  man.  A  desire  for  revenge  rushed  over 
her  soul  with  almost  overwhelming  force;  revenge 
on  Bell  Cole  for  all  the  pain  and  humiliation  which 
she  had  been  made  to  suffer  for  the  last  five  years. 

Here  was  her  chance  to  strike  back.  Bell  had 
interfered  between  her  and  Robert,  so  Ruth 
argued  for  the  moment ;  now,  why  should  not  she 
make  Bell  feel  some  of  the  pangs  of  love's  disap- 
pointments by  the  winning  of  this  man  from  her? 
She  would  do  it ! 

Robert  raised  his  eyes  to  her  face  at  that  mo- 
ment. Did  he  read  her  thoughts?  It  seemed  so 
to  her.  And  the  love-yearning  in  his  eyes  sent 
a  blush  of  shame  tingling  through  her  veins.  She 
turned  away  sick  at  heart. 

Dr.  Craig  finished  his  examinations  and  spoke 
a  few  encouraging  words  to  Dick,  and  rose  to  go. 

Robert  thrust  a  sum  of  money  into  Dick's  hand 
and  told  him  not  to  worry  about  his  work. 

"  Just  keep  a  stiff  upper  lip,  boy,  and  every- 
thing will  come  out  all  right,"  said  Robert  cheerily 
as  he  paused  at  the  door  to  look  back.  Again 


THE  SINS  OF  THE  FATHERS 

that  look  in  the  eyes  of  Dick  flashed  up  at  him. 
But  no  words  passed  the  lips  of  the  sick  man;  he 
merely  groaned  and  turned  his  face  to  the  wall. 

When  Robert  re-entered  the  kitchen,  Ruth  was 
standing  at  the  stove  preparing  a  hot  drink  for 
Dick.  He  approached  her  and  held  out  his  hand 
to  her. 

"  I  must  thank  you,  Miss  Bent,  for  all  your 
kindness  during  these  trying  weeks,"  he  said  in 
an  unsteady  voice,  as  she  placed  her  hand  in  his 
and  his  fingers  closed  over  it.  "  Dr.  St.  John  has 
told  me  what  a  splendid  help  you  have  been  to 
him.  I  want  you  to  tell  Grandma,  too,  that  I 
appreciate  her  part  in  this  good  work  more  than 
I  can  find  words  to  express." 

"  I  should  like  to  add  my  thanks  also,"  broke 
in  Dr.  Craig,  stepping  forward.  "  It  seems  rather 
singular  that,  while  I  have  been  following  up  Miss 
Bent's  work,  I  have  never  had  the  pleasure  of 
meeting  her  before." 

Robert  looked  at  him  with  undisguised  surprise. 

"  Do  you  mean  to  say  that  you  have  not  met 
Miss  Bent  personally  in  all  those  weeks  that  you 
have  been  working  together,  as  it  were?  " 

"  Never !  "  replied  Dr.   Craig  emphatically. 

"  Then  allow  me  the  pleasure  of  introducing 
you,"  said  Robert  with  a  laugh.  "  Miss  Bent, 
Dr.  Craig." 

He  bowed  his  acknowledgment  and  expressed 
his  pleasure  at  meeting  her,  then  gave  a  few  di- 
rections for  her  guidance  in  the  care  of  her  pa- 


RUTH  MEETS  DR.  CRAIG  225 

tient:  and  immediately  after  he  and  Robert  took 
their  departure,  leaving  her  with  her  heart  in  a 
riot  of  conflicting  emotions. 

This  was  the  first  time  that  she  and  Robert 
had  met  to  exchange  words  since  that  memorable 
day  of  his  father's  death.  He  had  religiously 
kept  faith  with  her  grandmother.  It  had  been 
a  hard  battle  for  him ;  but  he  had  fought  it  nobly 
and  had  won  his  victory  over  his  rebellious  heart. 
This  did  not  mean  that  he  had  given  up  hope. 
It  meant  only  that  he  would  wait  patiently  until 
Grandma  Bent  should  learn  how  she  had  wronged 
him.  Then  she  would  relent  and  send  for  him. 
He  felt  this  in  his  soul.  He  would  not  harbor 
the  thought  that  her  grudge  against  his  father 
would  be  carried  over  and  vented  on  him  and  Ruth. 
Meantime,  he  would  work  and  prove  to  all  that 
he  was  not  the  weakling  they  supposed  him  to  be. 

It  was  after  making  this  resolve  that  he  had 
appeared  before  Mark  Gibson  in  a  neat  business 
suit,  shorn  of  all  dandified  airs  and  furbelows  and 
settled  down  to  real  work.  In  less  than  a  year 
he  had  mastered  the  most  intricate  details  of  the 
massive  concern  and  had  shown  to  the  business 
world  that  there  was  nothing  to  fear  from  him. 
He  could  carry  his  own. 

Aside  from  his  extravagance  in  beautifying 
Coleville,  his  mother  and  Bell  had  no  fault  to  find 
with  his  management  of  their  interests.  Indeed, 
they  admitted  that  they  had  much  to  be  proud  of 
him  for.  As  Bell  once  expressed  herself  to  Dr. 


226      THE  SINS  OF  THE  FATHERS 

Craig  when  he  made  a  remark  about  Robert's 
wonderful  business  insights: 

"  Yes,  Robert  carries  a  pretty  stiff  neck  at 
times ;  but  there's  a  mighty  level  head  at  the  upper 
end  of  it." 

Ruth  had  also  abided  by  her  resolution  and  had 
suffered  in  silence.  Though  there  were  times 
when  she  wondered  whether  she  had  done  right 
in  sacrificing  her  love  without  a  protest  and  with- 
out giving  Robert  a  chance  to  say  a  word  in  his 
own  defense,  she  never  complained.  It  would 
hurt  Grandma's  feelings  to  do  so ;  and  after  all, 
Grandma  knew  what  was  best.  Besides,  there  was 
the  mystery  of  the  murder  still  hanging  over  her 
house  like  a  shadow.  So  the  days  and  the  weeks 
and  the  months  had  passed  on,  and  the  years  were 
creeping  on  apace,  with  no  illuminating  ray  of 
hope  for  the  future. 

Ruth's  father  had  married  again ;  and  Ruth 
had  divided  her  time  about  equally  between  her 
two  homes,  as  she  playfully  called  them,  during 
the  past  year.  This  made  it  easier  for  her  to 
avoid  meeting  Robert  or  any  of  her  old  friends. 
When  at  home,  she  seldom  went  to  church  or 
mingled  in  any  way  in  the  life  of  the  community. 

Mrs.  Gray  had  called  on  her  grandmother  once 
while  she  was  at  home  the  previous  summer,  and 
had  incidentally  mentioned  in  her  conversation 
that  Miss  Crosby  was  travelling  in  Europe;  that 
a  great  sorrow  had  come  into  her  life  which  had 
greatly  impaired  her  health,  and  had  even  threat- 


RUTH  MEETS  DR.  CRAIG          227 

ened  her  reason  for  a  time ;  that  her  Uncle  Crosby 
had  taken  her  on  a  trip  in  quest  of  forgetfulness 
in  a  change  of  scene.  What  the  great  sorrow 
was,  Ruth  was  left  to  conjecture.  Later  Ruth 
had  asked  Bell  about  it;  but  that  astute  young 
lady  only  shrugged  her  shoulders  and  equivo- 
cated. 

"  I  know  nothing  of  any  sorrow.  So  far  as 
my  information  goes,  she  is  in  Europe  purchasing 
her  trousseau,  which  I  understand  is  to  be  mag- 
nificent." 

Here  the  matter  had  ended,  for  Ruth  would  ask 
no  more  questions ;  and  from  that  time  to  the 
present  she  had  heard  nothing  regarding  Miss 
Crosby  or  her  approaching  wedding.  Of  one 
thing  she  was  positive:  namely,  that  Miss  Crosby 
had  not  visited  Coleville  since  Mr.  Cole's  death. 

After  Robert  and  Dr.  Craig  left  the  house  that 
morning,  many  strange  thoughts  went  trooping 
through  Ruth's  excited  brain.  She  caught  her- 
self constantly  mixing  her  ideas  and  giving  out 
wrong  impressions  to  Dick  till  he,  taking  pity  on 
her,  said  kindly, 

"  Miss  Ruth,  you  are  tired.  You  have  been 
working  too  hard  lately.  When  Nell  gets  up  you 
ought  to  go  home  and  rest  for  a  few  days.  I 
heard  Dr.  St.  John  say  the  other  day  that  you 
must  give  up  pretty  soon  or  you  would  be  down 
sick  yourself." 

She  laughed  a  little  hysterical  laugh  and  said 
lightly, 


228      THE  SINS  OF  THE  FATHERS 

"  Don't  worry  about  me,  Dick,  I  shall  have  all 
summer  to  rest." 

An  hour  later  Dr.  Craig  again  made  his  ap- 
pearance at  the  cottage.  This  time  he  was  alone. 
Nell  Stanton  had  risen ;  and  Ruth  was  putting  on 
her  wraps  to  leave  when  he  entered  the  kitchen. 

"  I  have  brought  this  medicine  for  Dick,"  he 
said  with  a  professional  air,  unwrapping  a  small 
vial  which  he  held  in  his  hand. 

He  bowed  to  Ruth ;  and  after  explaining  to 
Nell  how  the  medicine  was  to  be  given,  he  asked 
Ruth  if  she  were  going  directly  home. 

Ruth  answered  in  the  affirmative. 

"  I  am  going  your  way  and  should  be  pleased 
to  drive  you  home,"  he  said  with  a  bow,  while 
smoothing  his  fur-topped  gauntlets  over  his 
wrists.  "  The  sleighing  is  glorious  this  morning, 
and  Dod  is  in  fine  trim  for  a  run." 

The  temptation  came  in  her  moment  of  weak- 
ness. She  accepted ;  and  they  passed  out  of  the 
house  together. 


CHAPTER  XV 
RUTH'S  CONQUEST 

"  I  wonder  what  the  end  will  be !  "  Doctor 
Craig  looked  sadly  into  the  sweet,  girlish  face  be- 
fore him  as  he  uttered  the  words.  They  fell  from 
his  lips  almost  unconsciously ;  and  there  was  a 
melancholy  cadence  in  them  which  caused  the  long 
drooping  lashes  of  Ruth  Bent  to  spring  upward 
and  reveal  two  large,  round,  roguish  eyes. 

"  The  end  of  what? "  she  asked  innocently, 
pausing  in  her  task  to  look  into  his  face.  Her  lap 
was  full  of  mountain  laurel,  and  a  brimming  bas- 
ket of  the  same  stood  near  by.  For  three  whole 
hours  she  had  been  busily  engaged  in  weaving  the 
glossy  leaves  into  strands  of  various  lengths  suit- 
able for  festoons.  "  If  you  mean  this,"  she  con- 
tinued before  he  had  time  to  frame  an  answer  to 
her  question,  at  the  same  time  holding  up  a  long 
string  of  the  green,  "  I  can  assure  you  the  end 
will  be  like  the  beginning,  leaves  —  leaves  —  noth- 
ing but  leaves !  " 

He  started  and  looked  at  her  sharply.  There 
was  an  ominous  ring  in  her  voice ;  yet  her  manner 

betrayed   a   touch   of   coquetry   as   she   gave   the 

229 


230      THE  SINS  OF  THE  FATHERS 

strand  a  gentle  twirl,  settled  back  against  the  tree, 
and  again  took  up  her  work. 

"  Yes,  I  suppose  so,"  he  stammered,  speaking 
more  to  himself  than  to  her.  "  I  might  have 
known  it  were  I  not  such  a  blinded  idiot !  " 

"  Known  what  ?  "  Again  the  lashes  were  raised 
and  the  wondering  round  eyes  looked  the  interro- 
gation; but  the  nimble  fingers  did  not  relax  their 
industrious  motion. 

"  That  it  would  end  in  leaves  —  leaves  —  noth- 
ing but  leaves !  "  And  with  his  slender  driving- 
whip  he  switched  off  the  big  yellow  heads  of  an 
inoffensive  stalk  of  goldenrod  that  nodded  at  his 
feet. 

"  What  should  it  end  in  ?  "  she  asked  absently, 
dropping  the  rope  into  her  lap  and  proceeding  to 
cut  clusters  of  the  glossy  green  leaves  from  the 
branches  piled  at  her  side  and  to  arrange  them 
into  working  order.  This  time  the  eyes  remained 
veiled  under  the  brown  silken  lashes.  The  snip, 
snip,  snip  of  the  scissors,  the  fluttering  of  the 
leaves  down  into  her  lap,  and  the  glitter  of  steel 
in  the  sunlight  as  the  blades  came  together,  re- 
minded him  somewhat  of  Fate  in  her  relentless 
clipping  of  the  threads  of  life. 

"  True,  what  should  it  end  in  but  leaves  ?  Only 
your  words  struck  me  as  prophetic."  He  laughed 
a  low,  bitter  laugh,  which  grated  unpleasantly  on 
her  ears.  Up  flew  the  brown  lashes.  The  laugh 
died  on  his  lips ;  his  tone  changed  to  one  of  resig- 
nation, and  he  went  on :  "  And  yet  I  ought  to 


RUTH'S  CONQUEST  231 

expect  nothing  better ;  I  deserve  nothing  better !  " 

She  looked  at  him  gravely  and  gave  her  head  a 
reproving  little  shake. 

"  Doctor,"  she  said,  laying  aside  her  scissors 
and  taking  up  the  rope  of  green,  "  you  seem  out 
of  sorts  this  morning.  You  are  not  like  your 
usual  self.  I  hope  that  change  of  medicine  which 
you  prescribed  for  Dick  Stanton  last  week  didn't 
work  any  material  harm  on  him." 

"  Quite  the  contrary !  it  worked  like  a  charm !  " 
he  replied,  catching  at  her  latter  suggestion  and 
ignoring  the  former.  "  Dick  is  very  much  im- 
proved this  week.  If  he  would  only  take  care  of 
himself,  he  would  be  all  right.  But  Dick  is  such 
a  budget  of  opposites  that  one  can  never  predict 
what  to  expect  next." 

"  Poor  Dick !  "  she  said  sympathetically,  resum- 
ing her  work.  "  He  has  suffered  so  much !  Do 
you  know,  Doctor,  I  believe  the  Fates  sent  you  to 
this  little  out-of-the-way  place  to  minister  to  Dick 
Stanton.  His  sister  told  me  only  the  other  day 
that  you  could  handle  him  when  nobody  else 
could." 

"  Indeed !  "  The  word  spoke  volumes  and  the 
accompanying  elevation  of  his  brows  spoke  vol- 
umes more,  though  both  were  lost  on  the  impetuous 
girl  as  she  rattled  on. 

"  Yes,  indeed !  You  have  done  so  much  for  him. 
Only  think.  First  you  carried  him  through  the 
grippe;  then  you  headed  off  that  dreadful  hip 
disease;  and  last,  you  brought  him  through  that 


232      THE  SINS  OF  THE  FATHERS 

siege  of  typhus.  I  tell  you,  Doctor,  your  repu- 
tation has  gone  up  seventeen  and  a  half  notches 
in  the  last  three  months.  The  only  thing  we  are 
afraid  of  is  that  your  usefulness  will  outgrow  the 
village,  and  in  consequence,  you  will  hike  yourself 
off  to  new  and  larger  fields  of  opportunities.  And 
only  think  what  a  calamity  that  would  be  for  the 
village, —  and  for  Dick,  and  for  dear  old  Dr.  St. 
John!  Think  of  it!  What  would  the  dear  old 
doctor  do  without  you?  " 

"  But  I  haven't  gone  yet ;  I  am  not  even  think- 
ing of  going,"  he  assured  her  with  a  laugh. 

"  No,  to  be  sure  not ;  but  then  there  is  always 
the  possibility.  But  in  case  you  should  go,  what 
would  the  dear  old  doctor  do?  "  She  dropped  her 
hands  with  their  wealth  of  green  into  her  lap  and 
looked  appealingly  into  his  face. 

The  ghost  of  a  smile  played  round  his  lips  as 
he  met  her  gaze  of  distress. 

"  You  talk  as  if  the  obligation  were  all  on  the 
side  of  the  doctor ;  when  the  fact  is,  that  I  have 
received  more  benefits  from  dear,  patient  Dr.  St. 
John  than  he  has  ever  received,  or  ever  can  receive, 
from  me.  Besides,  it  is  Dr.  St.  John  who  should 
be  given  the  credit  for  Dick's  marvelous  recoveries, 
and  not  I.  He  was  the  physician,  I  only  the 
nurse,  or  at  best,  his  assistant." 

"  I  don't  agree  with  you,"  she  replied  warmly. 

"  It  is  true,  nevertheless,"  he  said  decidedly. 
"  Dr.  St.  John  is  a  marvel !  " 

"  You  are  too  modest,  Doctor,  and  generous  to 


RUTH'S  CONQUEST  233 

a  fault.  But  you  see  I  happen  to  know  all  about 
it.  Dr.  St.  John  told  me  about  your  splendid 
laboratory  work.  You  have  been  such  a  help  to 
him,  I  believe  he  would  pine  away  and  die  should 
you  leave  him."  She  gathered  up  a  bunch  of 
leaves  as  she  spoke  and  adjusted  the  leafy  nosegay 
in  her  corsage.  It  was  a  trifling  act;  but  it  be- 
trayed the  feminine  love  for  the  artistic.  He 
smiled  his  approval. 

"  But  you  do  not  know  what  the  doctor  has 
done  for  me." 

"  No,  at  least  not  all." 

"  Then  how  can  you  judge,  not  having  heard 
both  sides?  As  for  Dick  Stanton,  there  are  times 
when  I  almost  wish  his  life  had  not  been  saved," 
he  said  almost  sadly. 

"  Why  ? "  and  a  look  of  amazement  flashed 
from  her  eyes. 

"  Chiefly  because  of  his  physical  infirmities  he 
is  handicapped  in  his  battle  of  life.  He  seems 
to  realize  it  more  than  ever  since  his  recent  illness ; 
and  the  realization  makes  him  ugly.  He  is  assum- 
ing that  devil-may-care  spirit  which  is  the  fore- 
runner of  mischief.  But  there,  we  don't  want  to 
talk  about  him  any  more,"  he  said,  breaking  off 
with  a  touch  of  impatience;  and  picking  up  the 
scissors,  he  began  clipping  off  the  leaves  as  he  had 
seen  her  do. 

"  There,  it's  about  time  you  took  the  hint  and 
set  to  work !  "  she  exclaimed  gayly,  switching  off 
abruptly  from  the  topic  under  discussion  and  pur- 


234      THE  SINS  OF  THE  FATHERS 

suing  a  bantering  tone.  "  Here  you  have  been 
hindering  me  for  the  last  half  hour.  Now  I  shall 
expect  you  to  hustle  and  help  make  up  for  lost 
time.  Bell  is  coming  up  after  dinner  to  measure 
these  strands;  and  I  must  have  ten  yards  ready 
when  she  comes,  else  there's  a  forfeit  to  pay." 

"  Why  didn't  you  tell  me  that  sooner? "  he 
asked,  dropping  on  his  knees  beside  her.  "  I  dis- 
like to  think  of  my  being  a  hindrance  to  my 
friends,"  he  went  on,  clipping  vigorously  all  the 
time ;  "  especially  when  there's  a  forfeit  attached 
to  the  results." 

"  Be  careful,  Doctor,  you  are  cutting  those 
stems  too  short !  "  she  cried  in  tones  of  warning, 
laying  her  soft,  stained  hand  impulsively  on  his 
wrist  to  check  his  reckless  waste  of  material. 

The  scissors  and  the  branch  fell  from  his  fin- 
gers ;  his  hand  was  instantly  clapped  on  hers  where 
it  rested  on  his  wrist,  and  there  it  held  hers  as  in 
a  vice. 

"  Ruth  Bent,  you're  a  tyrant !  "  he  exclaimed 
with  an  exultant  laugh,  bending  towards  her. 

Their  eyes  met,  and  Ruth  read  in  his  passion- 
ate gaze  the  story  he  no  longer  meant  to  conceal. 
The  discovery  startled  her.  She  trembled  vio- 
lently; and  her  cheeks  crimsoned  perceptibly 
under  the  magnetic  gleam  that  lurked  in  his  love- 
lit  eyes.  She  lost  all  power  of  speech,  of  motion ; 
and  could  only  gaze  at  him  in  wide-eyed  wonder- 
ment, fascinated  by  the  marvelous  light  of  his 
eyes.  His  face  drew  nearer,  so  near  she  could  feel 


RUTH'S  CONQUEST  235 

his  warm  breath  on  her  cheeks ;  and  she  heard  him 
repeat  as  in  a  dream: 

"  Ruth  Bent,  you're  a  tyrant !  but  I  love  you 
to  distraction!  I  am  trying  so  hard  to  be  worthy 
of  you ;  and  God  helping  me,  I  will  succeed !  I 
would  not  have  spoken  so  soon,  Ruth,  but  you  are 
so  tantalizing.  Half  the  time  I  do  not  understand 
you ;  and  the  thought  of  losing  you  makes  me 
desperate !  I  ask  of  you  no  pledge,  no  plight,  for 
I  feel  that  I  have  no  right  to  bind  you  as  yet.  I 
only  ask  that  you  will  give  me  one  word  of  en- 
couragement,—  just  one  word, —  to  treasure  in  my 
heart.  It  would  help  me  so  much  in  my  struggle, 
and  make  it  easier  to  bear  the  monotony  of  this 
humdrum  existence.  Only  bid  me  hope,  and  I  will 
be  satisfied  to  wait  your  pleasure !  " 

His  voice  was  low  and  tremulous  with  emotion, 
the  very  intensity  of  which  frightened  her.  She 
listened  in  silence.  She  could  not  have  spoken 
had  she  tried.  He  misinterpreted  the  mute,  pain- 
ful appeal  in  her  eyes.  He  bent  forward  and 
pressed  her  lips  in  one  rapturous  kiss.  The  touch 
of  his  lips  brought  the  warm  blood  surging  to  her 
neck,  her  cheeks,  and  up  to  the  very  roots  of  her 
hair. 

"  Down,  Carlo !  you  naughty  dog !  "  came  in  a 
half  scolding  voice  from  somewhere  behind  the  tree, 
against  whose  massive  trunk  Ruth  had  braced  her- 
self when  she  commenced  her  work,  earlier  in  the 
day. 

Almost    simultaneously    with    the    command,    a 


236      THE  SINS  OF  THE  FATHERS 

large  mastiff  bounded  from  the  direction  whence 
the  voice  issued,  and  pushing  himself  between 
Ruth  and  Dr.  Craig,  planted  his  great,  clumsy 
paws  in  Ruth's  lap,  regardless  of  the  havoc  he 
wrought  among  the  laurel.  In  his  eagerness  to 
show  his  delight  at  finding  his  mistress,  the  dog 
had  upset  the  doctor  and  sent  him  sprawling  on 
the  lawn,  just  as  Bell  Cole  made  her  appearance. 

"  Ha,  ha,  ha !  "  laughed  Bell,  "  you  see,  Doctor, 
Carlo  brooks  no  interference  with  his  rights !  " 

Though  the  laugh  was  merry  and  the  words 
were  spoken  in  a  jesting  tone,  there  was  a  shade  of 
malicious  triumph  in  them  which  was  not  lost  on 
either  of  her  listeners. 

As  Bell  stepped  into  view  from  behind  the  tree, 
she  let  her  hat,  a  large,  fluffy  creation,  slip  co- 
quettishly  back  from  her  face,  and  held  it  dangling 
on  the  nape  of  her  neck  by  the  long  ribbon  stream- 
ers. She  made  rather  a  pretty  picture,  standing 
there  in  the  semi-shadows,  where  the  warm  Sep- 
tember sunlight,  filtering  through  the  wide  spread- 
ing branches  of  the  oak,  played  in  fitful  gleams 
among  her  dark,  glossy  tresses.  But  the  effect 
was  lost  on  the  guilty  one  for  whose  benefit  she 
had  posed. 

The  doctor  quickly  regained  his  footing,  and 
stood  with  bent  head,  brushing  the  dry  leaves  and 
dust  off  his  clothes. 

"  I  wouldn't  mind  his  asserting  his  rights,  Miss 
Cole,  if  he  would  do  it  in  a  less  aggressive  man- 


RUTH'S  CONQUEST  237 

ner,"  said  the  doctor,  hiding  his  confusion  behind 
a  pretense  of  displeasure  at  Carlo's  friendly  office. 
To  tell  the  truth,  he  could  have  hugged  Carlo  for 
his  timely  arrival  on  the  scene.  For  of  all  per- 
sons, Bell  Cole  was  the  last  one  he  would  wish  to 
know  of  his  real  feelings  for  Ruth  Bent.  He  felt 
sure  that  she  had  seen  nothing,  whatever  she  might 
surmise ;  so  he  quickly  regained  his  jocose  manner 
and  treated  the  affair  as  a  huge  joke,  and  laughed 
heartily  at  Carlo's  wrestling  tendencies. 

As  for  Ruth,  when  Carlo  thrust  his  cold  nose 
against  her  chin,  she  threw  both  arms  around  his 
neck  and  laid  her  flushed  cheek  against  his  friendly 
face.  She  hugged  and  caressed  him  in  an  ecstasy 
of  wild  delight.  At  last,  when  the  tumult  of  her 
heart  had  subsided  sufficiently  to  allow  her  to 
speak  with  a  steady  voice,  she  peered  over  the 
shaggy  body  of  the  dog  and  said: 

"  Why,  Bell,  this  is  a  delightful  surprise.  I 
did  not  expect  you  till  after  dinner.  But  I'm 
awfully  glad  you've  come !  Sit  right  down  and  go 
to  work ;  for  everybody  who  comes  near  me  before 
dinner  to-day  must  work.  Even  the  doctor  has 
had  to  work;  and  I  think  he  can  cut  fast  enough 
to  keep  us  both  busy  on  the  ropes.  Now,  Carlo, 
go  and  lie  down !  "  And  she  pushed  the  dog  away. 
His  tail  ceased  to  wag  as  he  turned  with  a  crest- 
fallen air,  and  stretched  himself  upon  the  grass 
close  by. 

The  doctor  took  the  hint,  and  picking  up  the 


238      THE  SINS  OF  THE  FATHERS 

scissors  and  the  branch  which  he  had  dropped  so 
ingeniously  a  short  time  before,  he  resumed  his 
clipping. 

"  But  I  haven't  come  to  work,  dear ;  you  know 
my  work  begins  at  two  this  afternoon,"  said  Bell 
with  irritating  sweetness,  eying  the  doctor  from 
beneath  her  half-closed  lids. 

"  O  Bell,"  chided  Ruth,  puckering  her  pretty 
mouth  into  a  pout,  "  and  you  know  that  dreadful 
forfeit  is  hanging  over  my  head.  I  never  appre- 
ciated the  feelings  of  Damocles  so  fully  as  I  do 
this  moment.  Do  help  me,  Bell !  "  she  pleaded. 

A  peal  of  silvery  laughter  rippled  from  between 
the  parted  lips  of  the  tantalizing  girl. 

"  From  all  appearances  one  might  judge  that  it 
would  afford  you  more  pleasure  to  lose  than  to 
win,"  she  replied  significantly.  "  And  really, 
Ruth,  I  think  the  forfeit  is  due  already.  If  I 
remember  rightly,  you  were  to  receive  no  help 
from  anyone  in  making  those  ropes ;  and  here  you 
have  pressed  Doctor  Craig  into  your  service. 
You  surely  do  not  expect  me  to  acquiesce  in  such 
deception?"  There  was  an  insinuation  in  her 
words,  and  the  covert  sting  found  its  mark  in  the 
truthful  soul  of  Ruth,  and  caused  the  color  to 
deepen  in  her  cheeks. 

"  Why,  Bell,"  she  exclaimed  in  tones  of  mild 
surprise,  "  I  did  not  understand  it  so !  I  thought 
I  was  to  have  ten  yards  of  rope  ready  for  the 
decorators  by  two  o'clock,  or  pay  a  forfeit.  I 


RUTH'S  CONQUEST  239 

knew  nothing  about  any  restrictions  on  my  receiv- 
ing help." 

"  Perhaps  there  were  no  express  restrictions ; 
but  you  were  to  make  the  rope.  Now  in  the  name 
of  Caesar's  ghost!  what  does  that  mean?  Why, 
simply  that  you  must  do  it  yourself  or  lose.  That 
is  classroom  ethics,  you  know, —  if  my  memory 
serves  me  correctly."  She  looked  down  into  the 
flushed  face  before  her  with  an  air  of  superiority 
quite  in  keeping  with  her  tone.  Her  manner  was 
extremely  exasperating,  too,  and  had  the  desired 
effect. 

"  Doctor  Craig,  drop  those  scissors  and  pick  up 
every  leaf  that  you  have  cut  and  pitch  it  over  the 
bank  there!  Then  you  may  take  Bell  for  a  walk. 
I  must  be  alone  if  I  am  to  finish  these  pesky  ropes 
by  two  o'clock."  She  spoke  with  the  air  of  one 
who  expected  to  be  obeyed,  while  her  fingers  flew 
industriously  in  and  out  among  the  green  leaves. 

The  doctor  dropped  the  scissors  as  he  was  bid- 
den, and  with  a  few  dashes  of  his  straw  hat  scat- 
tered the  leaves  which  he  had  cut  to  the  winds. 

Not  a  word  was  spoken  by  either  girl  while  the 
doctor  carried  out  the  order.  One  sat  and  worked 
incessantly ;  the  other  stood  and  looked  on  with  a 
malicious  smile. 

"  There,"  said  the  doctor  when  he  had  finished, 
"  I  have  obeyed  your  first  command  to  the  letter : 
as  to  the  second,  I  must  beg  to  be  excused.  Pro- 
fessional duties  demand  my  immediate  attention  at 


240      THE  SINS  OF  THE  FATHERS 

home,  so  I  will  bid  you  both  good  morning !  " 
And  with  a  sweeping  bow,  he  turned  away. 

"  Doctor! "  called  Bell.  He  was  not  to  get  off 
so  easily. 

He  wheeled  about  and  faced  her. 

"  I  am  going  home ;  do  you  mind  having  com- 
pany? I  wish  to  talk  to  you  about  the  decora- 
tions; I  can  do  so  on  the  way  down  and  thus  save 
your  time  as  well  as  my  own." 

"  Not  at  all !  "  he  answered  politely,  though  a 
shade  of  disappointment  flitted  across  his  face. 

"  Good-by,  Ruth,  I  shall  return  at  two  and  ex- 
pect to  find  you  in  a  more  amiable  mood,"  said 
Bell  as  she  swept  after  the  doctor  with  a  flutter  of 
her  red  and  white  muslin,  which  expressed  her  real 
feelings  plainer  than  any  words  could  have  done. 

"  Good-by !  "  called  Ruth  without  looking  up. 
Then  she  took  up  her  scissors  and  began  to  clip 
desperately,  while  her  head  drooped  over  her  work, 
as  though  she  had  quite  forgotten  their  very  ex- 
istence. 

Chatting  and  laughing,  and  with  an  occasional 
backward  wave  of  her  hand,  Bell  wended  her  way 
down  the  grassy  slope  by  the  side  of  her  captive 
—  for  such  the  doctor  felt  himself  to  be.  He  was 
in  anything  but  an  amiable  temper  when  he 
reached  the  road  where  he  had  left  his  horse  and 
buggy  when  he  had  caught  sight  of  Ruth  under 
the  oak,  to  run  up  and  speak  to  her.  Reaching 
the  gate,  the  doctor  opened  it  and  waited  for  Bell 
to  pass  through.  While  the  doctor  closed  and 


RUTH'S  CONQUEST  241 

fastened  the  gate,  Bell  stooped  and  gathered  a 
bunch  of  purple  asters  and  when  he  turned  she 
faced  him  and  adjusted  the  flowers  in  the  button- 
hole of  his  coat.  Ruth  could  not  hear  what  was 
said;  but  the  peal  of  gay  laughter  which  floated 
up  to  her  ears  had  a  ring  of  mockery  in  it.  Bell 
sprang  into  the  buggy;  the  doctor  gathered  up 
the  reins  and  stepped  in  after  her;  and  together 
they  drove  off  towards  the  village. 

Ruth  watched  them  under  the  covert  of  her  long 
lashes  until  they  disappeared  behind  the  bend  in 
the  road.  Then  she  dropped  her  work,  buried  her 
face  in  her  hands  and  burst  into  tears. 

Ruth's  tears  were  those  of  anger,  sorrow,  and 
humiliation.  She  was  angry  at  Bell,  sorry  for  the 
doctor,  and  deeply  humiliated  in  her  own  estima- 
tion. She  had  accepted  the  attentions  of  Arthur 
Craig  in  a  moment  of  sore  temptation,  and  had  led 
him  on  in  a  spirit  of  coquetry  simply  to  tease  Bell 
and  to  rouse  her  jealousy.  She  had  given  no 
thought  as  to  what  the  consequences  might  be  on 
the  doctor  himself. 

Ruth  knew  she  had  gained  her  object  so  far  as 
Bell  was  concerned.  She  had  played  her  cards 
well,  and  up  to  the  present  hour  had  derived  a  sort 
of  wicked  pleasure  from  her  conquest.  With 
fiendish  delight  she  had  watched  Bell's  growing 
annoyance  as  Dr.  Craig  spent  more  and  more  of 
his  time  in  the  hospitable  shade  of  Grandma  Bent's 
spacious  veranda.  It  amused  Ruth  immensely  to 
see  Bell  bolt  her  pride  in  seeking  a  reconciliation 


THE  SINS  OF  THE  FATHERS 

with  her  grandmother,  in  order  that  she  might 
resume  her  former  relations  in  the  household. 

It  had  not  been  very  difficult  for  Bell  to  attain 
this  point;  for  Mrs.  Bent  was  one  of  the  dearest 
and  most  forgiving  souls  to  be  found  in  a  day's 
journey.  She  had  been  very  fond  of  Bell  in  the 
old  days;  and  when  Bell  came  to  her  in  a  humble 
and  subdued  spirit,  she  was  only  too  glad  to  take 
her  back  into  her  good  graces.  But  Grandma  Bent 
was  not  long  in  divining  Bell's  sudden  change  of 
front.  When  she  saw  the  list  of  the  wind,  she 
said  nothing;  she  merely  sat  back  serenely  and 
watched  developments. 

Bell  soon  had  the  run  of  the  house  as  of  old. 
She  would  drop  in  on  the  family  at  all  sorts  of 
unreasonable  hours.  If  the  doctor  was  there  when 
she  came  well  and  good;  if  not,  she  would  remain 
on  one  pretext  or  another  until  he  icame.  In 
either  case,  she  never  thought  of  going  till  he  was 
ready  to  go;  and,  forsooth,  he  must  see  her  home 
as  a  matter  of  common  courtesy. 

Ruth  rather  enjoyed  all  this  by-play.  She  felt 
no  pity  for  the  unhappy  girl  —  not  even  when  she 
saw  a  shadow  of  pain  flash  across  her  face  when 
the  doctor  would  show  an  exceptional  bit  of  gal- 
lantry towards  herself.  For  the  most  part  Bell 
masked  her  feelings  behind  a  battery  of  wit  or 
sarcasm.  But  there  were  moments  when  she  could 
not  conceal  her  pain,  chagrin,  and  disappointment. 
At  such  times  Ruth  took  special  delight  in  tor- 
menting her  rival  by  monopolizing  the  doctor's 


RUTH'S  CONQUEST  243 

attention  to  the  total  eclipse  of  poor,  unhappy 
Bell. 

But  here  was  a  state  of  affairs  she  had  never 
even  thought  of;  and  she  despised  herself  utterly 
for  the  part  she  had  played  in  leading  the  doctor 
so  far  into  a  hopeless  passion.  His  declaration  of 
love  had  brought  her  to  her  senses ;  and  it  was  her 
turn  now  to  wonder  "  what  the  end  would  be." 

"  Foah  shame,  Miss  Rufe,  crying  on  youah 
bufday !  "  chided  the  voice  of  Milly  at  her  elbow. 

Ruth  started,  and  looking  up  through  her  tears, 
met  the  pitying  gaze  of  the  old  servant  fixed  upon 
her. 

"  O  Milly,  I  couldn't  help  it !  "  explained  Ruth, 
wiping  her  eyes  and  gulping  down  her  grief. 

"Whar's  dat  nettle?"  asked  Milly,  looking 
round  while  a  frown  gathered  on  her  black  face. 

"  That  nettle  ?  What  nettle  ?  "  asked  Ruth,  fol- 
lowing Milly's  sweeping  glance  down  the  slope  to 
the  road. 

"  Why,  Miss  Bell,  o'  cou'se !  She  cumed  down 
heah  some  time  ago.  Ah  circumspect  dat  she's 
been  saying  somefing  dat's  nettled  you.  But  yo' 
don  want  to  take  no  notice  o'  Bell  Cole,  'cause 
she  haint  wuff  it.  She  may  fink  she  owns  de  vil- 
lage ;  but  she  done  own  dis  year  place  no  how ! 
Whar's  she  gwan  ?  " 

"  She  is  on  her  way  home,  I  suppose." 

"  Did  she  go  alone  ?  "  quizzed  Milly,  looking 
straight  into  Ruth's  face. 

"  No ;  Doctor  Craig  was  here ;  he  is  driving  her 


244      THE  SINS  OF  THE  FATHERS 

home  as  usual,"  replied  Ruth,  rising  and  shaking 
the  withered  leaves  from  her  skirts. 

"  But  he  don'  belong  to  huh !  "  snapped  Milly, 
her  eyes  flashing  with  indignation. 

"  Well,  who  does  he  belong  to?  "  asked  Ruth  in 
surprise,  blushing  deeply  at  the  mere  suggestion 
contained  in  Milly's  words. 

"  Ah  don'  know  'zactly,  Miss  Rufe,  but  it  'pears 
to  me  he  oughter  belong  to  someone  a  little  nearer 
home."  And  she  gave  Ruth  a  sly  glance. 

"  No !  no !  Milly ;  get  that  idea  out  of  your  head ! 
If  he  belongs  to  anybody  in  particular,  he  belongs 
to  Bell  Cole.  And  she  is  welcome  to  him,  so  far 
as  I  am  concerned." 

She  spoke  rapidly,  like  one  who  had  made  a  sud- 
den resolve.  At  the  same  time  she  gathered  up 
the  strands  of  green  which  lay  scattered  about  and 
began  to  measure  them  in  a  nervous  sort  of  way. 
Milly  saw  that  enough  had  been  said,  so  she  began 
silently  to  help  measure  the  strands.  Ruth  was 
delighted  to  find  that  she  had  three  inches  over 
the  stipulated  ten  yards.  While  Milly  picked  up 
the  loose  branches  and  bunched  them  together  for 
convenient  handling,  Ruth  coiled  the  ropes  neatly 
in  the  basket.  This  done,  they  took  up  the  basket 
between  them  and  carried  it  up  to  the  house,  where 
they  left  it  on  the  veranda  in  readiness  for  Bell 
when  she  should  call  at  two. 

Bell,  however,  did  not  call  at  two ;  instead,  she 
sent  the  coachman  for  the  ropes. 


CHAPTER  XVI 
THE  HARVEST  FESTIVAL 

September  had  rushed  into  her  fourth  week  with 
a  crisp  and  jaunty  air.  It  was  Friday  afternoon. 
The  Rev.  Mr.  Hall  stood  in  front  of  his  study 
window  in  a  meditative  mood.  From  the  yellow- 
ing maples  in  front  of  the  parsonage  he  was  draw- 
ing his  never-ending  lessons  of  life.  They 
reminded  him  of  the  fleetness  of  time  and  of  the 
transitory  nature  of  all  things  earthly. 

He  had  returned  from  his  summer  vacation  very 
much  refreshed  in  body  and  mind,  and  very  much 
alive  to  the  necessity  of  getting  down  to  business; 
for  he  saw  before  him  the  accumulated  work  of 
those  four  joyous,  idle  weeks.  There  were  piles 
of  letters  to  be  answered ;  sick  calls  to  be  made ; 
and  withal,  general  plans  for  his  winter's  cam- 
paign to  be  mapped  out.  All  of  which  he  had  set 
about  doing.  And  for  the  last  four  weeks  he  had 
been  the  busiest  man  in  town. 

Work  is  the  elixir  of  life  was  one  of  his  fondly 
quoted  maxims ;  and  he  lived  up  to  the  letter  of  it 
as  well  as  to  the  spirit ;  for  he  gave  himself  no  rest 
while  anything  remained  to  be  done.  It  was, 

therefore,  significant  to  see  him  standing  idly  be- 

945 


246      THE  SINS  OF  THE  FATHERS 

fore  his  study  window,  near  the  close  of  the  after- 
noon of  this  fourth  Friday  in  September.  He 
stood  with  his  tall  figure  drawn  up  to  its  full 
height,  his  hands  clasped  behind  him,  and  a  com- 
placent smile  playing  round  the  corners  of  his 
dark-blue  eyes.  His  gaze  glanced  from  the  ma- 
ples to  the  hills  and  traced  their  ragged  edges, 
penciled  in  delicate  purples  against  the  crimson  of 
the  western  sky.  His  whole  bearing  reflected  his 
retrospective  mood.  For  he  was  mentally  revolv- 
ing all  he  had  accomplished  in  the  way  of  giving 
an  impetus  to  the  parish  work  during  the  last  four 
weeks.  And  it  was  evident  the  results  were  pleas- 
ing to  contemplate. 

One  of  his  first  diplomatic  moves  was  to  call 
the  younger  element  of  the  parish  together  and 
enlist  them  into  his  service.  He  had  suggested  to 
them  the  getting  up  of  a  harvest  supper  and  en- 
tertainment as  a  means  of  drawing  the  people  out 
socially,  a  suggestion  which  had  been  taken  up  and 
pushed  along  with  marvellous  rapidity.  For  the 
tables  were  already  set  in  the  vestry  and  waiting 
only  the  arrival  of  the  hour  and  the  guests. 

In  the  west  the  crimson  had  dissolved  into  gold, 
and  the  gold  in  turn  had  begun  to  run  into  the 
soft  hues  of  the  rainbow;  yet  his  thoughts  still 
rambled  on  over  the  achievements  of  the  past. 
His  face  mellowed  under  the  changing  glory  of 
the  sunlit  sky;  and  something  of  that  humbleness 
of  spirit  which  acknowledges  the  frailty  of  human 
plans  and  purposes  in  sight  of  the  wondrous  ere- 


THE  HARVEST  FESTIVAL          247 

ative  power  behind  that  dissolving  view  crept  into 
his  heart. 

A  rumble  of  wheels  brought  his  eyes  down  from 
the  heights  to  the  road  winding  past  his  door, 
where  the  sight  of  Bell  Cole  and  Dr.  Craig,  sit- 
ting tete-a-tete  in  Bell's  little  yellow  dogcart, 
turned  his  thoughts  into  new  channels.  The  smile 
of  beneficence  which  had  illuminated  his  face  a  mo- 
ment before  gave  place  to  a  frown  of  perplexity 
as  the  cart  drove  by  and  on  towards  the  church. 

Bell  sat  erect  as  a  queen,  with  her  chin  tilted  a 
trifle  high  in  the  air ;  and  while  holding  the  ribbons 
with  the  practiced  hand  of  a  horsewoman,  she 
chatted  familiarly  with  her  companion. 

The  Rev.  Mr.  Hall  waited  until  Bell  had  reined 
in  her  horse  at  the  vestry  door,  when,  with  an  im- 
patient shrug  of  his  square  shoulders,  he  turned 
away  from  the  window  and  prepared  to  leave  the 
house.  Presently  he  emerged  from  the  side  door 
and  wended  his  way  across  the  little  graveyard  to 
the  church,  with  a  very  somber  air.  Somehow,  the 
sight  of  Bell  and  the  doctor  had  disturbed  the 
serenity  of  his  mind. 

The  rumors  of  the  countryside  had  reached  his 
ears ;  yet,  up  to  the  present  time  he  had  put  them 
aside  as  idle  and  pernicious.  But  in  those  few 
moments  the  truth  that  there  was  at  least  grounds 
for  the  gossip  was  forced  upon  him  with  disquiet- 
ing effect.  He  had  never  taken  over  kindly  to 
Dr.  St.  John's  protege.  Being  himself  frank  and 
open,  he  resented  £jje  secretive  air  maintained  by 


S48      THE  SINS  OF  THE  FATHERS 

the  old  doctor  in  regard  to  the  young  man's  ante- 
cedents; and  he  distrusted  Dr.  Craig  himself  be- 
cause of  the  mystery  that  still  clung  to  his  past. 
It  was  natural,  therefore,  that  he  should  look  with 
disfavor  on  the  stranger's  attention  to  Bell,  and 
to  feel  constrained  to  take  some  measures  to  pre- 
vent a  mesalliance,  now  that  the  danger  had  be- 
come apparent  to  his  hitherto  blinded  faculties. 
It  was  with  the  intention  of  appealing  to  the  old 
doctor's  sense  of  propriety  that  he  left  his  home 
so  early;  but  ere  he  had  reached  the  vestry  door, 
discretion  had  gained  the  ascendancy,  and  he  de- 
cided to  speak  to  Robert  instead. 

Bell  had  charge  of  the  entertainment  and  had 
entered  heartily  into  her  work,  because,  so  gossip 
had  the  temerity  to  say,  she  could  have  Dr.  Craig 
at  her  beck  and  call.  Be  that  as  it  may,  her  com- 
mittee had  met  and  formulated  plans,  or  rather  be 
it  said,  Bell  herself  had  formulated  the  plans  and 
had  called  her  committee  together  simply  to  en- 
dorse them.  Accordingly,  it  was  agreed  that 
every  person  on  the  committee  should  have  a  spe- 
cific task  to  do,  and  that  anyone  failing  to  per- 
form her  part  on  schedule  time  should  pay  a 
forfeit. 

Almost  at  the  last  moment,  only  the  night  be- 
fore the  entertainment,  Bell  had  sent  the  following 
note  to  Ruth: 

Dear  Ruth:  — 

Ten  yards  of  laurel  roping  is  needed  to  finish  the 


THE  HARVEST  FESTIVAL          249 

decorations.  I  shall  expect  you  to  make  the  roping 
and  to  have  it  ready  for  me  by  two  o'clock  to-morrow, 
when  I  shall  call  for  it.  Remember,  not  an  inch 
less  than  ten  yards.  If  it  is  not  ready  by  two,  lo! 
that  forfeit. 

BELL. 

The  laurel  had  to  be  gathered  and  Ruth  won- 
dered how  she  could  accomplish  her  task  in  so 
short  a  time.  She  accepted  Bell's  fiat,  however, 
but  with  a  desperate  determination  not  to  pay  the 
threatened  forfeit.  She  had  a  premonition  that 
Bell  would  think  up  something  ridiculous  for  her 
to  do,  if  she  failed ;  therefore,  failure  was  out  of 
the  question.  Bell  Cole  should  never  have  the 
power  to  make  a  laughing-stock  of  her,  so  she 
vowed. 

She  knew  where  the  laurel  grew  in  abundance 
on  the  hillsides ;  and  feeling  reasonably  sure  of 
getting  all  she  needed  in  a  couple  of  hours,  she 
went  to  bed  and  slept  soundly  till  the  crowing  of 
the  first  cock  in  the  morning. 

She  rose  in  the  gray  of  the  dawn,  and  dressing 
herself  hastily  she  repaired  to  the  kitchen  where 
Milly  and  Joe  were  already  in  waiting.  After 
partaking  of  a  cup  of  hot  coffee  and  a  slice  of 
toast  which  Milly  had  prepared  for  her,  the  three 
crept  forth  and  set  off  for  the  hills  just  as  the 
sun's  first  streaks  reddened  the  morning  sky.  The 
air  was  crisp.  But  they  did  not  mind  that,  for 
they  were  good  walkers;  and  as  they  pushed  on, 


250      THE  SINS  OF  THE  FATHERS 

all  in  a  merry  mood,  the  warm  blood  went  tingling 
through  their  veins  and  mounting  to  their  cheeks 
and  lips.  They  were  back  before  eight,  bearing 
a  plentiful  supply  of  glistening  green  leaves ;  and, 
as  we  already  know,  the  roping  was  finished  on 
time. 

As  Ruth  had  not  been  asked  to  assist  in  the 
decorating  of  the  church,  she  naturally  felt  that 
her  work  was  done  when  she  had  produced  the 
stipulated  number  of  yards  of  roping.  And  as 
she  had  various  other  reasons  for  not  wishing  to 
obtrude  on  Bell's  prerogatives  as  chairman,  she 
did  not  make  her  appearance  until  almost  the  last 
moment  before  supper.  Bell  met  her  at  the  door 
when  she  arrived. 

"  I  see  where  somebody  pays  a  forfeit  to- 
night !  "  said  Bell,  making  a  vain  attempt  at  play- 
fulness. 

"  For  what?  "  asked  Ruth,  looking  at  her  with 
childlike  questioning  in  her  large  blue  eyes,  as  she 
crossed  the  threshold  and  entered  the  narrow  cor- 
ridor. 

"  Shirking !  "  replied  Bell,  giving  her  one  of 
those  covert  glances  from  under  her  long  lashes, 
which  she  knew  so  well  how  to  use. 

"  In  what  way,  please?  "  There  was  a  tinge  of 
resentment  in  Ruth's  voice. 

"  In  not  coming  down  to  help  in  the  work  this 
afternoon,"  answered  Bell  with  a  look  of  triumph 
in  which  mingled  a  gleam  of  malice. 

"  But  you  didn't  ask  me,"  she  returned  quickly. 


THE  HARVEST  FESTIVAL         251 

"  You  knew  the  work  had  to  be  done.  You 
should  have  come  without  waiting  to  be  asked. 
The  girls  and  I  have  been  working  all  afternoon 
while  you  have  been  idling  at  home." 

"  But  you  forget  that  I  was  up  at  daybreak 
and  working  while  you  and  the  girls  were  asleep 
in  bed;  and  again  you  forget  that  I  was  working 
all  morning  while  you  were  out  making  calls.  I 
think  our  accounts  are  fairly  well  balanced." 
And  with  a  haughty  toss  of  her  head  she  swept 
past  the  tantalizing  Bell  and  disappeared  through 
the  door  of  the  anteroom. 

Ruth's  cheeks  flushed  with  anger  and  her  pulses 
fairly  throbbed  with  exasperation  when  she 
brought  up  sharply  against  a  garment-ladened 
settee  in  the  center  of  the  dimly  lighted  room. 
Fortunately,  there  was  no  one  present  to  see  her 
mishap.  This  fact  mollified  her  wounded  feelings 
in  a  measure.  For  one  brief  moment  she  stood 
there  hesitating  —  undecided  whether  to  retreat  or 
to  remain  and  face  the  threatened  ordeal.  Fi- 
nally, her  nose  went  up  in  the  air  with  a  deter- 
mined little  perk,  and  her  eyes  emitted  a  wicked 
gleam  as  she  muttered  below  her  breath :  "  I 
shall  remain,  whatever  the  consequence !  "  Then 
leisurely  laying  aside  her  wraps,  she  donned  a 
dainty  white  apron  and  was  ready  for  work.  Her 
grandmother  had  asked  her  to  serve  on  the  supply 
table,  over  which  that  dear  old  lady  had  presided 
at  every  harvest  supper  given  by  the  church  for 
the  past  fifty  years. 


252      THE  SINS  OF  THE  FATHERS 

By  this  time  Ruth  had  fully  recovered  her  self- 
possession;  and  as  she  passed  from  the  anteroom 
into  the  vestry  there  was  no  trace  of  the  angry 
struggle  through  which  she  had  just  come  —  ex- 
cept, perhaps,  the  deeper  tinge  of  rose  in  her 
cheeks  and  the  brighter  sparkle  in  her  eyes  could 
be  taken  for  such. 

It  was  a  brilliant  scene  into  which  she  stepped. 
Fruits,  flowers,  and  green  boughs  had  wrought 
a  wondrous  change  in  the  dingy  old  vestry.  The 
large  room  had  literally  been  transformed  into  a 
sylvan  grotto.  Graceful  festoons  of  laurel  roping 
relieved  the  walls  of  their  dull  grayness.  Banks 
of  goldenrod,  dahlias,  and  early  autumn  leaves 
covered  the  window  sills,  chancel  rails,  and  every 
unsightly  bare  spot  in  the  room.  Side  tables 
fairly  creaked  under  the  abundance  of  native 
fruits.  And  over  all,  the  chandelier  and  wall  jets, 
nearly  hidden  beneath  a  wealth  of  goldenrod,  shed 
a  soft  light  through  their  red  poppy  shades. 

At  first  glance,  Ruth  was  amazed  at  the  large 
number  of  the  poorer  workmen  and  their  families 
who  were  present,  especially  those  from  that  part 
of  the  village  known  as  the  "  Latin  quarters,"  a 
section  which  had  sprung  into  existence  during  the 
last  year  of  Richard  Cole's  life.  These  people 
seemed  to  have  assembled  from  all  parts  of  south- 
ern Europe,  and  as  yet  had  hardly  discarded  a 
single  old-world  characteristic  either  of  manner 
or  of  dress.  And  here  they  stood  or  sat  with 
dumb,  smiling  faces  in  picturesque  groupings 


THE  HARVEST  FESTIVAL         253 

about  the  room.  The  women  in  their  gay-colored 
dresses  and  kerchiefs,  their  eyes  sparkling  with  a 
new-born  light,  lent  the  crowning  touch  of  bright- 
ness to  the  scene. 

Ruth  quickly  guessed  the  secret  of  their  pres- 
ence as  she  watched  Dr.  St.  John  flitting  from 
group  to  group  with  his  cheery  words  and  winning 
smile.  She  had  learned  many  things  during  the 
late  epidemic  as  she  had  gone  from  house  to  house 
on  her  mission  of  mercy.  She  had  seen  the  hidden 
hand  of  Robert  Cole,  under  the  guise  of  the  ec- 
centric little  doctor's,  stretched  out  to  these  people 
in  so  many  ways  that  she  took  their  presence  here 
this  evening  as  another  proof  of  Robert's  earnest- 
ness in  the  adoption  of  his  motto :  "  Not  unto 
thyself  alone,  shalt  thou  live." 

She  had  only  time  for  a  swift  glance  at  her  sur- 
roundings and  a  mental  flash  of  what  it  all  meant 
ere  Dr.^  Craig  reached  her  side  and  said  softly: 

"  You  look  surprised." 

"  I  am  surprised,"  she  answered,  turning  her 
eyes  full  on  his  face  in  a  most  matter-of-fact  way. 
"  Accept  my  congratulations.  You  are  certainly 
an  artist;  for  none  but  an  artist  could  have  con- 
ceived so  charming  a  setting  for  such  a  scene. 
I—" 

"  Sorry  to  interrupt  so  pleasant  a  tete-a-tete, 
but  Grandma  wants  you  immediately,"  broke  in  a 
well-known  voice ;  and  Ruth  felt  an  arm  slip  under 
her  own  and  found  herself  being  led  off  by  Bell  in 
the  direction  of  the  supply  table.  Ruth  suffered 


£54      THE  SINS  OF  THE  FATHERS 

herself  to  be  led  but  a  few  steps  when  she  switched 
herself  free  from  Bell's  guiding  hand  and  made  a 
dart  for  her  grandmother's  side.  Here  she  was 
set  to  work  in  no  amiable  mood  and  kept  busy  for 
the  next  hour. 

Dr.  Craig  bit  his  lips  in  vexation  when  Bell 
whisked  Ruth  away  so  unceremoniously;  but  his 
feelings  quickly  changed  and  a  subtile  gleam  shot 
from  his  eyes  and  brought  a  smile  to  his  lips,  and 
he  began  to  hum  unconsciously: 

"  I  think  I  could  be  happy  with  either, 
Were  tother  sweet  charmer  away !  " 

Then  his  thoughts  reverted  to  the  scene  under  the 
oak  at  noon;  and  again  he  asked  himself: 

"  I  wonder  how  it  will  all  end  ?  " 

His  musings  were  cut  short  by  Mrs.  Cole's  com- 
ing up  and  claiming  his  attention.  She  gave  him 
her  hand  with  a  flattering  compliment.  At  that 
moment  supper  was  announced.  He  bent  over  the 
little  hand  with  the  grace  of  a  courtier  paying 
homage  to  his  queen;  and  then  drawing  it  under 
his  arm  he  led  her  to  the  table  which  had  been 
decorated  expressly  in  her  honor.  Dr.  St.  John, 
Judge  and  Mrs.  Gray,  and  Mrs.  Hall  were  already 
gathered  round  the  table  waiting  their  coming. 
Presently,  they  were  joined  by  Bell  and  the  min- 
ister, Mr.  Hall. 

"  Where  is  Robert?  "  asked  Mrs.  Cole,  casting  a 
searching  glance  about  the  room. 


THE  HARVEST  FESTIVAL         255 

"  Oh,  he  has  one  of  his  freakish  turns  on  to- 
night and  chooses  to  sit  with  his  dear  people," 
answered  Bell  with  a  sarcastic  tilt  of  her  head, 
nodding  in  the  direction  where  Robert  sat  at  the 
head  of  one  of  the  long  tables. 

Mrs.  Cole  looked  annoyed  and  was  on  the  point 
of  sending  for  him  when  Dr.  St.  John  very  in- 
geniously cleared  the  atmosphere  by  asking  the 
minister  to  say  grace.  This  cut  off  further  com- 
ment on  Robert's  seeming  desertion ;  and  the  sup- 
per proceeded  with  th«  usual  clatter  of  dishes  and 
tongues. 

There  was  quite  another  reason  than  the  one 
given  by  Bell  for  Robert's  choosing  to  sit  at  one 
of  the  common  tables  rather  than  at  the  family 
table  that  night,  a  reason  of  which  Bell  little 
dreamed;  for  she  had  not  heard  the  minister's 
warning  to  Robert  in  regard  to  herself  and  Dr. 
Craig.  It  never  dawned  on  her  highly  excited 
mind  that  Robert  was  keeping  a  studied  aloofness 
from  both  herself  and  the  doctor  in  order  to  avoid 
a  scene,  a  scene  which  might  possibly  have  spoiled 
the  anticipated  pleasures  of  others.  Had  she 
known  how  matters  stood,  she  might  have  changed 
her  plans  somewhat. 

The  supper  proved  a  decided  success.  Every- 
one rose  from  the  tables  feeling  at  ease  with  the 
world,  if  not  entirely  at  ease  within  himself.  The 
best  of  nature  prevailed  among  the  groups  which 
gathered  here  and  there  about  the  room  to  discuss 
the  excellence  of  the  repast.  The  flow  of  good 


256      THE  SINS  OF  THE  FATHERS 

spirits  demonstrated  the  truth  of  the  old  adage 
that  "  a  full  man  makes  a  merry  one."  And  so 
our  friends  laughed,  chatted,  and  jollied  each 
other  as  they  waited  for  what  was  to  follow. 

Bell  Cole  had  the  entertainment  in  hand;  and 
as  a  matter  of  course,  those  who  knew  her  talent 
and  taste  for  the  artistic  looked  for  something 
unique.  They  were  not  disappointed  in  the  first 
part  of  the  program;  for  she  had  engaged  a  well- 
known  concert  company  from  a  nearby  city  to  fill 
in  the  first  hour.  Then  she  had  allowed  her  hid- 
den propensity  for  the  ridiculous  to  run  riot,  and 
had  rung  in  a  few  of  the  clownish  characters  of 
the  village  to  cater  to  the  other  side  —  the  up- 
roarious, fun-loving  side  —  of  her  audience. 

She  had  pressed  Robert  into  her  train  as  act- 
ing chairman.  He  was  to  announce  the  numbers 
in  the  order  arranged ;  and  he  performed  his  duties 
in  a  masterly  manner.  Although  he  knew  that 
many  of  those  present  were  covertly  hostile  to  him, 
and  that  very  likely  on  the  morrow  there  would 
be  open  war  between  them,  he  gave  no  sign  of  his 
fears  of  the  brewing  storm.  He  seemed  to  have 
a  wonderful  flow  of  good  nature  during  the  whole 
evening.  Among  the  children  especially  he  moved 
with  an  open-handed  generosity  that  reached  the 
hearts  of  the  most  timid  and  rubbed  off  much  of 
the  shyness  with  which  they  had  been  wont  to  meet 
him. 

In  his  opening  remarks  as  chairman  he  made 
quite  a  hit;  and  he  kept  up  the  interest  of  the 


THE  HARVEST  FESTIVAL          257 

audience  throughout  the  concert  part.  When  it 
came  to  the  second  part,  he  laughed  heartily  at 
the  antics  of  the  clowns  in  several  of  their  stunts, 
such  as  the  hot  pie  and  apple  eating  contests. 
But  when  these  same  clowns  began  to  indulge  in 
coarse  skits  and  jests,  his  face  darkened  and  he 
sat  stern  and  stiff.  Somewhat  wearily  and  with 
a  shade  of  disappointment  on  his  face,  he  rose  and 
faced  the  audience  to  announce  the  last  number, 
when  the  voice  of  Ruth  in  low,  half  angry  tones 
reached  his  ear  and  arrested  his  attention.  He 
was  standing  with  his  back  close  against  the  cur- 
tain behind  which  the  players  were  screened  from 
view,  and  could  not  help  hearing  distinctly  every 
word  that  passed. 

"  I  positively  refuse  to  engage  in  such  a  fool 
contest,  or  to  be  a  party  to  it  in  any  way ! "  he 
heard  Ruth  say. 

"  It  is  only  a  little  harmless  fun ;  I  see  nothing 
in  it  to  get  perturbed  over,"  replied  Bell  pettishly. 
"  Besides,  you  owe  the  forfeit  and  should  pay  it 
according  to  agreement." 

"  I  deny  the  forfeit !  "  returned  Ruth  firmly. 
"  And  even  if  I  did  owe  it,  I  should  still  refuse  to 
be  a  party  to  so  cruel  a  jest  as  to  expose  the 
frailties  of  that  poor  man  to  the  merciless  ridicule 
of  a  thoughtless  crowd.  You  had  better  abandon 
this  number  of  your  program.  I  am  sure  Rob  — 
Mr.  Cole  would  not  sanction  it  if  he  knew." 

At  that  instant  a  shuffling  sound  from  the  plat- 
form caused  Robert  to  glance  aside  in  the  direction 


258      THE  SINS  OF  THE  FATHERS 

whence  it  came  and  was  amazed  to  see  Dick  Stan- 
ton,  in  a  half  tipsy  condition,  bearing  an  old  saw- 
horse  and  saw,  staggering  towards  the  front  of 
the  stage.  Before  Bell  could  reply  to  Ruth,  Rob- 
ert had  slipped  behind  the  curtain  and  faced  her. 

"What  does  this  mean?  "  he  demanded  sternly 
of  Bell. 

"  It  means,"  answered  Ruth  quickly,  drawing 
herself  up  haughtily,  "  that  Bell  has  arranged  a 
wood  sawing  contest  between  me  and  that  poor, 
unfortunate  being,  Dick  Stanton ;  and  that  I  de- 
cidedly refuse  to  play  the  fool." 

"  And  you  are  right  in  doing  so,  Miss  Bent ! 
There  has  been  enough  of  this  tomfoolery  al- 
ready !  "  exclaimed  Robert,  measuring  Bell  with 
flashing  eyes.  Then  taking  Ruth  by  the  arm  and 
drawing  the  curtain  aside,  he  whispered  tenderly 
as  he  almost  pushed  her  out,  "  You  go  to  Grand- 
ma while  I  straighten  this  thing  out." 

Ruth  glided  out  without  a  word  or  even  a  look, 
glad  to  escape  so  easily;  and  the  curtain  dropped 
back  into  place.  Beckoning  her  grandmother  as 
she  reached  the  door  leading  into  the  corridor,  she 
passed  at  once  into  the  small  vestry  where  she  hur- 
riedly donned  her  wraps  and  stood  ready  for  her 
homeward  drive  when  her  grandmother  entered. 

Mrs.  Bent  made  no  comment  as  she  submitted 
herself  to  the  trembling  hands  of  Ruth.  She  had 
seen  Robert  slip  behind  the  curtain ;  and  Ruth's 
hasty  exit  told  its  own  story  to  her  watchful  eyes. 
She  smiled  encouragingly  into  the  tear-filled  eyes 


THE  HARVEST  FESTIVAL          259 

and  patted  the  burning  cheeks  as  Ruth  reached 
up  to  place  the  little  black  bonnet  on  her  bowed 
head.  A  few  moments  later  the  two  passed  un- 
noticed, arm  in  arm,  out  of  the  church  and  into 
the  moonlit  road,  where  they  found  Joe  waiting 
with  the  carriage  to  drive  them  home. 

Meantime,  after  a  hasty  expostulation  with 
Bell,  Robert  brought  the  entertainment  to  a  close 
by  announcing  that  the  last  number  on  the  pro- 
gram would  be  a  humorous  selection  by  Dr.  Craig. 

The  doctor  had  seen  Bell's  dilemma  and  had 
hastened  to  step  into  the  breach  to  save  her  from 
the  humiliation  of  having  an  awkward  ending  to 
her  delightful  entertainment.  So  he  hustled  Dick 
and  his  saw-horse  from  the  platform  and  proffered 
himself  as  a  substitute.  And  a  splendid  substitu- 
tion he  proved  to  be.  So  that  the  affair  wound 
up  happily,  and  was  pronounced  the  best  ever 
given  in  the  town. 

But  the  end  was  not  all  joy  and  mirth;  for  into 
three  homes  it  carried  tears,  heartaches,  and  con- 
sternation. 

In  the  audience  that  night  sat  Mr.  Lunt  of  the 
Pinkerton  staff,  on  one  of  his  periodic  visits  to 
Coleville.  Though  others  had  long  since  aban- 
doned hope  of  ever  detecting  the  slayer  of  Richard 
Cole,  Mr.  Lunt  still  clung  to  his  clues.  Ever  since 
the  day  of  his  summary  dismissal  from  Coleville 
by  Mark  Gibson,  he  had  made  a  point  of  dropping 
down  on  the  villagers  quite  unexpectedly  at  odd 
intervals.  At  such  times  he  would  stop  over  a  day 


260      THE  SINS  OF  THE  FATHERS 

or  two,  talk  with  whomsoever  would  talk  with  him, 
which  were  not  many,  for  most  of  the  villagers 
fought  shy  of  him,  and  then  he  would  again  quietly 
disappear.  He  had  run  down  this  afternoon,  and 
finding  the  people  on  the  qui  vwe  over  the  harvest 
supper,  he  concluded  that  it  might  be  to  his  ad- 
vantage to  remain  over  for  the  festivities. 

Almost  the  first  person  he  met  on  leaving  the 
dingy  little  railroad  station  was  Dick  Stanton 
who,  singularly  enough,  always  espied  him  the  in- 
stant he  struck  the  village,  and  stuck  to  him  like 
a  leech  while  he  remained.  Whether  these  meet- 
ings were  by  accident  or  by  design  was  a  puzzle 
to  Mr.  Lunt,  to  which  he  could  find  no  solution. 
Nevertheless,  with  an  eye  to  business,  he  welcomed 
this  attachment  to  his  person  and  wheedled  him- 
self into  Dick's  good  graces  with  the  smoothness 
of  a  worm. 

Dick  was  in  a  maudlin  state  of  intoxication 
when  he  ran  across  Mr.  Lunt  that  afternoon ;  and 
Mr.  Lunt  was  somewhat  disgusted  at  the  thought 
of  having  to  be  towed  about  by  such  a  beastly 
looking  creature  as  Dick  presented.  At  first  he 
tried  to  shake  him  and  get  off  alone ;  but  Dick  was 
not  to  be  shaken.  He  began  to  blubber  and  to 
tell  Mr.  Lunt  his  tale  of  woe, —  how  he  had  been 
discharged  and  ordered  out  of  the  village  by  Rob 
Cole,  and  for  no  reason  whatever,  only  that  Rob 
Cole  wanted  to  show  his  authority. 

This  information  rather  interested  Mr.  Lunt, 
and  he  decided  to  make  the  best  of  a  bad  bargain ; 


THE  HARVEST  FESTIVAL          261 

so  he  invited  Dick  to  the  hotel  to  take  dinner  with 
him,  an  invitation  of  which  Dick  quickly  availed 
himself.  On  the  way  over  and  during  the  repast, 
Mr.  Lunt  was  regaled  with  all  the  news  of  the 
county,  and  especially  with  what  had  happened 
in  the  village  since  his  last  visit. 

Mr.  Lunt  listened  attentively  while  Dick  rattled 
on,  adroitly  leading  him  from  point  to  point  when- 
ever he  showed  any  disposition  to  lag  or  to  wan- 
der from  the  subject  in  hand.  From  Dick's  talk 
he  gathered  that  a  crisis  was  pending  in  the  affairs 
of  the  village,  a  crisis  which  might  prove  a  bonanza 
to  himself;  so  he  quickly  resolved  to  sign  the  reg- 
ister and  engage  his  room  for  a  few  days  and  to 
keep  his  eyes  and  ears  open  for  business.  From 
his  guest  he  learned  of  the  church  supper.  He 
also  was  informed  that  Dick  himself  was  to  take 
part  in  the  entertainment;  a  fact  which  may  or 
may  not  have  influenced  him  to  accept  Dick's 
urgent  invitation  to  attend  the  supper. 

Dick  Stanton  had  indeed  proved  himself  "  a 
budget  of  opposites,"  as  Dr.  Craig  had  sized  him 
up  for  Ruth's  benefit  that  day.  For  some  time 
after  his  starting  to  work  at  the  shops,  Dick  had 
carried  himself  with  commendable  credit.  The 
fact  that  he  was  able  to  earn  his  own  living 
seemed  to  have  a  stimulating  influence  on  his  char- 
acter. He  ceased  drinking  and  began  to  take 
pride  in  his  personal  appearance,  so  much  so  that 
the  villagers  began  to  wonder  where  he  got  his 
money  with  which  to  dress  so  extravagantly,  for 


262      THE  SINS  OF  THE  FATHERS 

his  clothes  were  cut  of  the  very  best  material  and 
tailor-made  into  the  bargain.  This  gave  him 
quite  a  respectable  air,  so  different  from  his  old 
devil-may-care  self. 

Dick  had  received  a  fair  education ;  and  being 
somewhat  above  the  average  in  intelligence,  with 
much  of  the  acuteness  of  his  kind,  he  had  a  marked 
advantage  over  his  fellow- workers,  an  advantage 
which  he  was  not  slow  to  improve.  So  that  ere 
long,  instead  of  being  the  despised  hunchback,  he 
was  looked  up  to  as  a  wit  of  no  mean  power. 

Then  came  the  epidemic  of  la  grippe  in  which 
Dick  was  attacked  among  the  first.  The  disease 
left  him  weak.  It  also  opened  an  old  sore  on  his 
hip,  which  for  a  time  threatened  his  life.  This  in 
turn  was  followed  with  a  siege  of  typhus.  Alto- 
gether Dick  had  had  a  hard  pull  during  the  last 
nine  months.  And  to  add  still  further  to  his 
tribulations,  the  old  man  had  died  early  in  the 
summer,  which  seemed  to  break  him  all  up.  Ex- 
cept that  he  was  very  much  thinner  and  paler, 
Dick  at  the  present  time  was  apparently  as  strong 
as  ever,  which  is  not  saying  much  for  poor  Dick's 
strength.  But  he  was  changed  —  greatly  changed 
—  or  rather,  he  had  sunk  back  into  his  old  nasty, 
drunken  habits,  and  had  become  the  bane  of  Nell's 
life. 

Yet  withal,  he  had  lost  none  of  his  prestige 
among  the  workmen  at  the  shops.  He  worked  off 
and  on,  coming  and  going  as  he  pleased;  still  his 
pay  went  on  whether  he  worked  or  loafed.  And 


THE  HARVEST  FESTIVAL          263 

this  might  have  gone  on  till  the  end  had  not  Rob- 
ert in  passing  through  the  yards  that  very  fore- 
noon accidentally  run  afoul  of  him  and  caught  him 
red-handed  doling  out  beer  from  his  large  dinner- 
pail  at  so  much  a  drink,  and  discharged  him  on 
the  spot. 

As  fate  would  have  it,  Bell  met  Dick  on  his  way 
home,  and  knowing  nothing  of  his  discharge,  hit 
upon  him  as  a  cog  in  the  wheel  of  her  merry-go- 
round.  Accordingly,  she  approached  him  on  the 
matter;  and  he  very  willingly  entered  into  her 
plans,  and  was  placed  on  her  list  for  a  wood- 
sawing  contest.  He  asked  no  questions  as  to  who 
his  contestant  was  to  be.  He  cared  nothing  about 
that  part  of  it.  It  was  the  fact  that  he  had  been 
asked  to  take  a  part  in  the  entertainment,  and  by 
Bell  Cole  herself,  that  pleased  him;  and  coming 
just  at  this  time,  the  invitation  proved  doubly  at- 
tractive and  puffed  him  up  with  his  own  conceit; 
and  straightway  he  went  off  and  got  drunk. 

According  to  his  agreement  with  Bell,  he  was 
on  hand  early.  He  came  accompanied  by  Mr. 
Lunt  whom  he  had  not  lost  sight  of  for  a  moment 
since  his  arrival.  Leaving  Mr.  Lunt  at  the  door 
purchasing  his  ticket,  Dick  swaggered  into  the 
supper-room,  and  past  Robert  with  an  insolent  air, 
and  strode  up  to  Bell  with  a  disagreeable  leer  on 
his  face. 

"  Here  I  am,  Bell.  I  feel  in  the  best  of  trim 
for  the  job  on  hand,"  he  said  in  loud  tones  as  he 
approached  her. 


S64      THE  SINS  OF  THE  FATHERS 

Bell's  face  flushed  with  anger.  Drawing  herself 
up  haughtily,  and  giving  him  a  withering  glance 
which  told  him  plainly  that  he  had  presumed  too 
far,  she  motioned  him  to  a  seat  at  one  of  the  tables, 
and  turned  away. 

This  seertied  to  amuse  Dick,  for  he  threw  his 
head  back  and  laughed  uproariously,  which  caused 
Mr.  Lunt  to  hasten  towards  him  and  to  caution 
him  to  keep  quiet.  Mr.  Lunt  kept  Dick  in  hand 
until  after  the  concert  was  over.  Then  Dick  left 
him  to  go  behind  the  curtain.  Finding  himself 
alone,  Mr.  Lunt  shifted  his  seat  to  the  rear  of  the 
room,  where  he  happened  to  drop  in  beside  the 
Rev.  Mr.  Hall.  From  this  point  he  watched  the 
performance  and  appeared  to  enjoy  it  up  to  the 
time  when  Dick  staggered  on  the  platform  alone. 
He  had  tried  to  dissuade  Dick  from  making  a 
show  of  himself;  but  all  to  no  purpose.  He  saw 
there  was  a  hitch,  and  was  not  surprised  when 
Dick  was  rushed  off  the  stage  and  Robert  an- 
nounced the  change.  Dick  was  furious  and 
stalked  out  of  the  church  in  high  dudgeon. 

At  the  first  sound  of  Dr.  Craig's  voice  when  he 
appeared  on  the  platform  and  began  to  recite,  Mr. 
Lunt  started  and  leaned  forward  a  trifle.  Then 
as  the  doctor  went  on,  Mr.  Lunt  rose  to  his  feet 
as  if  drawn  by  some  irresistible  force  and  remained 
standing  with  his  eyes  riveted  on  the  speaker  until 
the  end.  As  the  doctor  left  the  stage  auiid  a  round 
of  flattering  applause,  Mr.  Lunt  dropped  quietly 
back  into  his  seat  and  began  questioning  Mr.  Hall. 


THE  HARVEST  FESTIVAL          265 

When  Dr.  Craig  made  his  appearance  from  be- 
hind the  scenes,  he  was  immediately  surrounded  by 
a  host  of  admirers.  Mr.  Lunt  made  his  way  over, 
and  just  as  he  reached  the  doctor  he  heard  Bell 
say: 

"  I  was  not  aware  you  possessed  this  particular 
talent.  You  certainly  have  kept  this  one  hidden 
under  a  bushel !  " 

"  You  remind  me  of  a  young  chap  I  used  to 
know  in  college,"  broke  in  Mr.  Lunt.  "  He  used 
to  recite  that  same  piece.  I  could  almost  swear 
it  was  he  who  stood  before  me  while  you  were  re- 
citing. His  name  was  Bixby.  And  come  to  think 
about  it,  you  resemble  him,  too;  only  you  look 
older." 

Dr.  Craig  laughed  lightly. 

"  Any  fool  can  imitate ;  only  wise  men  can  origi- 
nate; and  I  am  not  a  wise  man."  And  he  turned 
away  to  speak  to  Dr.  St.  John  who  came  up  at 
that  moment. 

Meanwhile  Ruth  and  her  grandmother  had 
reached  home.  When  Joe  drew  rein  at  the  side 
door  and  alighted,  he  handed  Ruth  her  mail  which 
he  got  at  the  postoffice  on  his  way  down  to  the 
church.  Ruth  helped  her  grandmother  out  of  the 
carriage  and  into  the  house;  and  then,  before  re- 
moving her  wraps  she  sat  down  to  read  her  letters. 

"O  Grandma,  just  listen!"  cried  Ruth  excit- 
edly. "  Here  is  a  letter  from  Papa.  He  has  been 
transferred  to  L.,  New  Hampshire;  and  has 
rented  and  moved  into  a  quaint  old  house  with 


266      THE  SINS  OF  THE  FATHERS 

great  rambling  rooms,  within  a  stone's  throw  of 
the  State  fair  grounds ;  and  he  wants  me  to  come 
and  make  a  long  visit  before  cold  weather  sets  in. 
In  fact,  he  wants  me  to  come  right  away  so  as  to 
be  there  when  the  fair  opens  next  Tuesday. 
Would  you  mind,  Grandma,  if  I  went  to-morrow  ?  " 
she  finished  up,  dropping  her  hands  into  her  lap 
and  looking  up  at  her  grandmother. 

"Not  in  the  least,  dear!"  Mrs.  Bent  assured 
her.  "  You  know  Frank  is  coming  home  to-mor- 
row for  a  few  weeks'  rest,  so  that  I  shall  not  be 
alone.  Go  by  all  means !  Only  don't  stay  too 
long;  for  you  know  I  miss  you  when  you  are 
away."  And  she  bent  over  and  kissed  the  eager, 
upturned  face,  well  pleased  in  her  heart  that  the 
letter  should  have  come  at  such  an  opportune 
moment. 

Ruth  had  maintained  an  unnatural  silence  dur- 
ing the  drive  home.  The  melancholy  look  in  her 
eyes  as  she  gazed  straight  ahead  into  space  pained 
her  grandmother  exceedingly.  Mrs.  Bent's  keen 
wits  had  detected  that  something  had  gone  wrong 
behind  the  scenes  at  the  church ;  something  which 
had  hurt  the  sensitive  heart  of  Ruth  beyond  the 
power  of  speech.  But  she  dared  not  question  her 
about  it  lest  she  should  make  a  bad  matter  worse. 
So  she  wisely  held  her  peace.  How  glad  she  was 
now  for  the  letter  from  her  son!  She  became  al- 
most gay  as  she  sat  down  beside  Ruth  and  insisted 
on  her  reading  every  word  of  the  letter  to  her. 
Ruth  read  the  letter  aloud;  and  then  the  two  sat 


THE  HARVEST  FESTIVAL          267 

and  talked  about  the  absent  ones  until  long  past 
their  regular  hour  of  retiring. 

Next  morning  Ruth  had  risen,  dressed,  break- 
fasted, and  crossed  the  border  into  New  Hamp- 
shire, long  before  Bell  Cole  had  opened  her  eyes 
on  the  light  of  day. 

Joe  drove  Ruth  to  the  station  to  catch  the  six 
o'clock  train  that  morning.  Milly  accompanied 
them  to  see  Ruth  off.  After  checking  her  trunk, 
and  seeing  her  comfortably  settled  in  her  seat 
when  the  train  came  in,  Joe  hobbled  down  to  the 
platform,  where  he  and  Milly  stood  and  waited  for 
the  train  to  start.  For  they  considered  it  part  of 
their  duty  to  see  the  train  on  its  way  ere  they  left 
the  station. 

At  last  the  signal  was  given  and  the  train  began 
to  move  slowly.  Joe  and  Milly  waved  their  fare- 
wells. Ruth  leaned  forward  at  the  car  window  to 
return  their  parting  salutes,  when  she  caught  sight 
of  Robert  Cole  walking  rapidly  towards  the  depot. 
Her  heart  gave  a  great  throb  and  then  seemed  to 
stop  its  beating.  She  sank  back  in  her  seat  lest 
he  should  raise  his  eyes  and  see  her,  for  the  train 
was  scarcely  moving  at  the  time.  Passing  brief 
as  the  sight  of  Robert's  face  was,  Ruth  saw  that 
it  was  of  unusual  pallor  and  wore  a  worried  ex- 
pression, which  haunted  her  all  day  and  spoiled 
much  of  her  enjoyment  of  the  beautiful  scenery 
through  which  she  passed. 

Joe  and  Milly  stood  like  sentinels  and  watched 
the  train  increase  in  speed  and  finally  clear  the 


268      THE  SINS  OF  THE  FATHERS 

station.  Then  they  turned  abruptly  when  Milly 
brought  up  plump  against  Robert  Cole. 

"  Why,  hello,  Milly ! "  he  exclaimed,  as  he 
caught  her  in  his  arms  and  recognized  her. 
"  What  are  you  doing  out  so  early  ?  " 

"  Ah's  just  cum  down  to  brung  Miss  Rufe. 
She's  off  agin  to  see  her  pa,"  explained  Milly  when 
she  had  recovered  her  breath  and  her  equilibrium. 

Robert's  face  blanched  and  a  look  of  pain  shot 
into  his  eyes.  He  made  no  remark,  however;  he 
only  nodded  his  head  and  passed  on,  leaving  Milly 
staring  after  him  and  muttering  to  herself: 

"  Ah  wondah  what  brung  Massa  Cole  out  so 
early?" 


CHAPTER  XVII 

ROBERT  MAKES  A  PACT  WITH  THE 
DETECTIVE 

Several  things  had  conspired  to  bring  Robert 
Cole  to  the  depot  that  morning.  As  we  already 
know,  he  had  appeared  exceptionally  gay  during 
the  festivities  of  the  previous  evening,  until  the 
closing  incident.  This  had  annoyed  him  so  much 
that  he  felt  out  of  sorts  with  himself  and  everyone 
else.  After  the  applause  which  had  rewarded  the 
doctor's  fine  reading  had  subsided,  Robert  has- 
tened back  to  the  vestry  in  hopes  of  meeting  Ruth 
ere  the  audience  dispersed.  He  wished  to  apolo- 
gize to  her  for  Bell's  rudeness ;  and  to  win,  per- 
haps, a  kind  word  in  return. 

He  moved  among  that  shifting  throng  in  search 
of  her,  but  in  vain.  Finally  he  was  told  that  she 
had  been  gone  some  time.  This  added  to  his  annoy- 
ance and  roused  a  rankling  bitterness  in  his  heart. 
Then  Mr.  Lunt  took  him  aside  to  make  some  in- 
quiries about  Dr.  Craig.  "Who  was  he?  What 
was  he?  And  where  had  he  come  from?  "  All  of 
which  he  answered  as  briefly  as  possible.  Mr. 
Lunt  was  reticent  as  to  his  object.  Nevertheless, 

these  questions  coming  close  on  the  trail  of  the 

269 


270      THE  SINS  OF  THE  FATHERS 

minister's  cautionary  advice  had  a  very  disquiet- 
ing effect  on  Robert,  and  he  parted  from  Mr.  Lunt 
in  a  rather  disturbed  frame  of  mind.  He  sought 
his  mother  and  with  a  foreboding  silence  helped  her 
on  with  her  cloak  and  led  her  out  to  the  carriage 
and  handed  her  in.  Then  he  turned  to  look  for 
Bell,  whom  he  had  seen  leave  the  church  just  ahead 
of  him. 

On  account  of  the  conflicting  lights  and  shades 
in  the  yard,  it  was  some  time  before  he  caught 
sight  of  her,  seated  in  the  dogcart  tete-a-tete  with 
Dr.  Craig.  Robert's  brows  contracted  in  an 
angry  frown.  For  the  first  time  it  seemed  to  dawn 
on  him  that  something  more  intimate  than  a  pass- 
ing friendship  would  warrant  Bell's  driving  the 
doctor  home  in  so  public  a  manner  at  so  late  an 
hour  at  night;  and  that  Mr.  Hall  was  justified  in 
calling  his  attention  to  the  matter. 

Closing  the  carriage  door  with  a  snap,  he  or- 
dered the  coachman  to  drive  home;  then  as  the 
dogcart  swung  out  of  the  lane  into  the  road,  he 
leaped  into  the  rear  seat  and  settled  himself  be- 
hind Bell,  much  to  the  disgust  of  that  young  lady, 
who  showed  her  resentment  by  giving  the  unoffend- 
ing horse  such  a  stinging  lash  with  the  whip  that 
he  reared  and  plunged  with  the  smart  and  nearly 
ditched  them  all.  This  act  in  no  way  disconcerted 
Robert,  although  he  fully  understood  its  meaning. 
He  simply  folded  his  arms  across  his  breast  and 
sat  up  straight,  stiff,  and  silent  as  a  trained 
lackey.  Not  even  when  Bell  drew  rein  before  the 


ROBERT  MAKES  A  PACT  £71 

doctor's  gate  did  he  break  the  silence  or  change 
his  position.  He  seemed  like  one  in  a  dream. 

The  doctor  sprang  lightly  to  the  ground,  bid- 
ding Bell  "  Good  night,"  and  as  the  cart  swung 
round  to  return  he  shouted  good-naturedly  to 
Robert;  but  Robert  heeded  him  not.  The  cart 
rattled  over  the  uneven  ground  and  disappeared  in 
the  darkness,  and  still  the  doctor  stood  at  the  gate 
gazing  after  it  with  a  look  something  akin  to 
dismay  in  his  eyes.  And  here  Dr.  St.  John  found 
him  when  he  arrived  home  half  an  hour  later,  and 
rallied  him  on  the  folly  of  moon  gazing. 

Robert  maintained  the  same  stoical  silence  all 
the  way  home.  Not  till  Bell  drew  up  with  a  sud- 
den jolt  at  the  side  door,  which  nearly  unseated 
him,  did  he  seem  to  recover  any  measure  of  his 
wonted  energy.  Bell  sprang  to  the  ground  on 
one  side,  he  on  the  other.  Throwing  the  reins  to 
the  groom,  she  ran  nimbly  up  the  steps ;  but  Rob- 
ert was  at  her  side  when  she  reached  the  door,  and 
they  entered  the  hall  together. 

"  I  wish  to  have  a  few  words  with  you,  Bell," 
he  said  in  a  strained  voice,  taking  her  by  the  arm 
and  leading  her  towards  the  side  parlor. 

"Isn't  it  rather  late?"  she  asked  peevishly, 
while  allowing  herself  to  be  led  into  the  darkened 
room. 

"  Perhaps  it  is,  for  what  I  have  to  say,"  he 
replied  significantly.  "  Nevertheless,  I  must  say 
it." 

When  they  had  entered  the  room  he  closed  the 


272      THE  SINS  OF  THE  FATHERS 

door  behind  them  and  switched  on  the  light,  and 
immediately  began  pacing  the  floor,  as  if  at  a  loss 
how  to  begin. 

Bell  sank  languidly  down  on  the  edge  of  the 
chair  and  commenced  tapping  her  daintily  slip- 
pered foot  nervously  on  the  soft  velvet  carpet, 
while  she  eyed  him  steadily  from  beneath  her 
drooping  lashes  and  waited  for  the  storm  to  burst. 
She  knew  he  had  cause  to  be  angry  with  her;  but 
she  had  in  mind  the  scene  behind  the  curtain  and 
was  not  prepared  for  what  was  coming.  She  had 
learned  that  he  could  be  severe  when  he  chose ;  but 
for  all  that,  she  did  not  purpose  to  sit  like  a 
schoolgirl  and  be  dictated  to  by  him  or  anyone 
else.  So  she  sat  poutingly  marshaling  her  wit  for 
the  expected  tilt. 

But  ah,  how  little  did  she  understand  his  noble 
nature  or  the  terrible  struggle  raging  in  his  soul ! 
At  last  he  paused  and  stood  looking  down  on  her 
with  sorrowful  eyes. 

"  Isabell,"  he  said  gravely,  "  I  don't  like  the 
looks  of  this  intimacy  between  you  and  Dr.  Craig. 
Somehow,  it  never  struck  me  seriously  until  to- 
night. Even  now  I  cannot  bring  myself  to  admit 
there  can  be  anything  in  it  beyond  mere  friend- 
ship ;  yet  I  feel  constrained  to  warn  you  not  to 
go  too  far.  While  I  like  the  man  in  many  ways, 
his  past  life  is  such  a  closed  book,  and  so  mysteri- 
ous, that  I  think  you  ought  to  be  extremely  cau- 
tious in  accepting  his  addresses  either  in  public  or 
in  private.  That  is  all ;  you  may  go." 


ROBERT  MAKES  A  PACT  273 

She  rose  slowly,  somewhat  piqued  at  the  turn 
affairs  had  taken;  yet  so  thoroughly  overawed  by 
the  solemnity  of  his  voice  and  manner  that  she 
stood  for  a  moment  gazing  at  him  in  speechless 
amazement.  She  had  never  seen  him  like  this  be- 
fore, and  she  could  not  understand  him. 

He  stepped  to  the  door  and  throwing  it  wide 
open,  stood  aside  for  her  to  pass.  The  tables  had 
been  so  completely  turned  upon  her  that  she  felt 
herself  helpless  and  at  his  mercy.  Her  usual 
ready  wit  had  forsaken  her.  Her  very  heart  felt 
like  lead  as  she  swept  from  his  presence  with  a 
very  subdued  air  and  a  scarcely  audible  "  Good 
night." 

Troubles  never  come  singly.  So  thought  Rob- 
ert Cole  when  the  truth  of  a  possible  love  affair 
between  Dr.  Craig  and  Bell  flashed  across  his 
mind.  At  first  his  anger  was  such  that  he  could 
have  challenged  the  doctor  on  the  spot ;  but  to  his 
credit  he  conquered  the  impulse  and  showed  his 
displeasure  as  we  have  seen. 

So  intense  were  his  feelings,  however,  that  dur- 
ing the  whole  drive,  he  was  debating  within  him- 
self whether,  after  all  is  said  against  duelling,  it  is 
not  the  quickest  and  surest  way  of  settling  certain 
obnoxious  questions.  At  any  other  time  he  would 
have  put  the  thought  aside  as  barbarous.  But 
that  night  he  was  sorely  tried  and  beset  on  all 
sides  with  perplexities,  of  which  neither  Bell  nor 
Mrs.  Cole  as  yet  knew  anything. 

As  a  tactful  general,  before  making  an  attack, 


THE  SINS  OF  THE  FATHERS 

always  seeks  the  points  of  least  resistance  in  the 
ranks  of  his  enemy,  so  the  tempter  chooses  in  re- 
gard to  his  victims.  It  is  always  in  the  midst 
of  some  great  mental  stress  that  temptation  comes 
with  its  subtile  arts  to  play  upon  the  most  sensi- 
tive fibres  of  the  human  soul.  Brush  it  aside  as 
he  would,  the  idea  kept  forcing  its  way  through 
and  through  his  tired  brain  with  ever  increasing 
strength,  until  at  last  he  felt  like  shouting  "  pistols 
for  two!" 

But  Robert  had  fought  his  battles  before  and 
won  his  victories  in  self-mastery,  and  he  was  not 
to  be  beaten  this  time.  In  the  midst  of  his  sorest 
pressure  the  sweet  face  of  Ruth  Bent  rose  like  an 
appealing  angel;  and  the  recollections  of  his  own 
blasted  hopes  came  at  last  with  a  softening  effect 
and  changed  the  whole  tenor  of  his  thoughts. 
What  right  had  he  after  all  to  interfere?  Bell 
was  old  enough  to  manage  her  own  affairs.  After 
reaching  this  conclusion  he  decided  to  pass  the 
matter  over,  for  the  present  at  least,  with  a  gentle 
admonition  to  Bell;  and  as  we  have  seen,  he  per- 
formed this  most  disagreeable  duty  with  such  deli- 
cate tact  that  Bell  was  quite  taken  off  her  guard. 

Robert  retired  to  his  room  immediately  after  his 
interview  with  Bell;  but  not  to  bed.  He  had  a 
more  weighty  problem  than  Bell's  love  affair,  dis- 
quieting as  that  was,  to  settle  ere  he  slept.  Few, 
if  any,  not  in  actual  touch  with  the  inside  affairs 
of  Cole  &  Company's  great  plant,  knew  that  Rob- 
ert Cole  and  his  employees  met  in  that  assemblage 


ROBERT  MAKES  A  PACT  275 

under  a  truce.  None  who  noted  his  buoyant  spir- 
its and  felt  the  charm  of  his  genial  smile  and 
bright  personality  during  the  earlier  evening  could 
have  imagined  what  a  cloud  hung  over  his  heart. 
They  knew  nothing  of  the  burden  of  cares  under 
which  he  had  been  straining  every  nerve  for  weeks 
past.  They  saw  only  the  gay-hearted,  successful 
business  man,  blessed  with  wealth  and  life's  richest 
gifts,  the  man  whose  cup  of  pleasure  was  full  to 
overflowing. 

The  truth  was,  things  had  not  been  going  right 
in  the  business  world  of  late ;  and  a  recent  slump 
in  the  market  had  pinched  him  more  than  he  was 
willing  to  acknowledge.  He  managed  to  keep  his 
shops  open  and  on  full  time,  while  his  competitors 
had  cut  wages,  run  short  time,  or  closed  down  alto- 
gether. It  had  been  done,  however,  at  a  big  sacri- 
fice, in  the  hopes  that  the  depression  would  be  only 
temporary,  and  that  he  could  tide  over  the  slack 
period  without  entailing  any  unnecessary  suffer- 
ing on  his  people.  For  weeks  Mark  Gibson  had 
been  warning  him  of  the  folly  of  his  way. 

"  Business  is  business,"  Mark  would  say  with  a 
solemn  shake  of  his  gray  head,  "  and  you  can't 
mix  business  with  sentiment  and  expect  to  keep 
your  head  above  the  sinking  line." 

Robert  was  obdurate,  and  turned  a  deaf  ear  to 
Mark's  most  excellent  business  advice.  And  the 
massive  chimneys  belched  forth  their  full  quantity 
of  smoke  each  day ;  the  weekly  pay  rolls  remained 
the  same,  while  Robert  watched  his  private  fortune 


276      THE  SINS  OF  THE  FATHERS 

slipping  through  his  fingers.  Something  had  hap- 
pened that  very  day,  however,  which  had  caused 
him  to  pause  and  wonder  whether  his  sacri- 
fice was  really  worth  the  while ;  and  whether  he  had 
any  right  to  place  in  jeopardy  the  fortunes  of  Bell 
and  his  mother.  He  faced  the  situation  manfully, 
though  with  a  strong  revulsion  of  feeling. 

As  we  already  know,  Robert  had  insisted  from 
the  first  of  his  coming  into  possession  of  his  heri- 
tage that  it  was  not  only  his  right  and  privilege, 
hut  also  his  duty,  to  close  up  the  one  saloon  in 
the  village.  He  had,  as  we  also  have  seen,  in 
deference  to  the  opinion  of  Dr.  St.  John  and  the 
advice  of  Mark,  delayed  action  for  over  a  year. 
Though  he  might  as  well  have  carried  out  his 
plans  in  the  first  place  for  all  the  advantage 
gained  by  the  delay ;  fur  the  summary  order  which 
came  to  Jack  Stanton  one  Monday  morning  after 
a  more  than  usual  riotous  Sunday,  to  close  up  his 
business  and  get  out  of  town  as  soon  as  possible, 
was  none  the  less  sudden  to  Jack,  and  was  none 
the  less  resented  by  the  workmen  as  an  interference 
with  their  rights  to  spend  their  time  and  money  as 
they  pleased,  so  long  as  they  did  their  work. 

Stanton  promptly  obeyed  the  mandate,  and  by 
Saturday  night  of  the  same  week  he  had  domiciled 
himself  in  a  long  abandoned  tavern  which  stood 
just  over  the  border  of  Coleville  on  the  main  road. 
A  large  sign  done  up  elaborately  in  red  and  gold 
swung  from  a  broken  limb  of  an  ancient  button- 
wood  tree  in  front  of  the  house  and  announced  to 


ROBERT  MAKES  A  PACT  277 

the  wayfarer  that  the  Coleville  hotel  was  open  for 
business.  The  change  was  made  so  quickly  and 
good-naturedly  on  the  part  of  Stanton  as  to  rouse 
a  suspicion  that  he,  knowing  he  held  his  tenancy 
by  suffrage  only,  had  prepared  in  advance  the 
means  of  a  lightning  exit  when  the  order  should 
come  for  him  to  vacate  the  premises. 

This  coup  d'etat  on  the  part  of  Stanton  quickly 
brought  order  out  of  chaos  and  quieted  the  mut- 
terings  of  discontent  which  had  risen  against  Rob- 
ert's command ;  for  the  saloon  had  been  shifted  a 
distance  of  only  twenty  minutes'  walk  from  the 
works,  just  far  enough  to  get  up  an  extra  thirst. 
Besides,  it  appealed  to  the  pride  of  the  men  to  be 
able  to  frequent  a  hotel  rather  than  a  common 
saloon.  So  thither  the  men  wended  their  way 
night  after  night,  rendezvoused  all  day  Sunday, 
and  came  rollicking  home  late  at  night,  making 
night  hideous  with  their  bowlings  and  drunken 
laughter,  such  as  had  never  been  known  under  the 
old  regime. 

And  to  make  matters  worse,  Dick  Stanton  had 
stealthily  kept  on  tap  in  his  cellar  a  cask  of  beer, 
and  every  noon  had  managed  to  smuggle  into  the 
works  a  four  quart  pail  of  the  foaming  beverage, 
which  he  doled  out  to  the  men  at  a  fair  profit. 
This  had  gone  on  remittently,  that  is,  when  Dick 
was  able  to  walk  to  the  shops  after  recovering 
from  his  periodic  attacks  of  illness,  until  that  very 
day  when  Robert  accidentally  blundered  into  a 
group  of  men  in  the  yard  drinking  from  Dick's  in- 


278      THE  SINS  OF  THE  FATHERS 

nocent  looking  dinner  pail,  and  discharged  him. 
The  men  had  protested  at  Robert's  summary  ac- 
tion and  pleaded  for  the  reinstatement  of  Dick. 
But  Robert  turned  a  deaf  ear  to  their  pleas;  and 
the  men  went  off  in  a  sulky  mood. 

The  men  proved  as  obstinate  in  their  demands 
as  Robert  did  in  his  refusal.  About  the  middle  of 
the  afternoon  a  delegation  had  waited  on  him  to 
press  their  point  and  had  threatened  dire  conse- 
quences in  case  their  demands  were  not  conceded 
to.  After  listening  patiently  to  their  side  of  the 
issue  and  having  gone  into  some  details  of  his  own 
side,  it  became  evident  to  him  that  neither  side  was 
ready  or  willing  to  make  any  concessions,  and  that 
he  was  simply  wasting  time.  He  told  them  he 
would  take  the  matter  under  further  advisement 
and  let  them  know  definitely  the  next  day  what  he 
would  or  would  not  do  in  the  case,  and  then  dis- 
missed them. 

On  the  departure  of  the  delegation,  he  had  taken 
counsel  of  Mark  Gibson,  and  together  they  had 
gone  over  the  situation  carefully.  But  the  con- 
ference was  barren  of  results.  Mark  did  his  best 
to  persuade  him  to  yield.  This  annoyed  Robert, 
and  if  anything,  made  him  more  stubborn  to  resist 
all  interference  with  his  methods  of  running  his 
own  affairs.  While  he  was  anxious  to  avoid  trou- 
ble, he  had  a  high  sense  of  his  moral  obligation  to 
the  community  as  a  whole;  and  having  taken  his 
position  for  what  he  considered  right,  yielding  was 
out  of  the  question. 


ROBERT  MAKES  A  PACT  279 

He  felt  the  crisis  in  his  career  had  come.  To 
yield  to  the  unreasonable  demands  of  his  workmen 
now  would  show  a  weakness  on  his  part  which 
would  surely  redound  to  his  disadvantage  when 
face  to  face  with  more  serious  issues  in  the  future. 

Robert  left  Mark  very  much  out  of  humor  and 
went  home  to  dress  for  the  supper.  He  drove 
down  to  the  church  with  his  mother  and  here, 
throwing  the  whole  question  to  the  winds,  he 
plunged  into  the  spirit  of  festivity  which  seemed  to 
prevail  on  all  sides,  even  among  the  men,  many  of 
whom  were  present,  whose  fate  he  held  in  abey- 
ance. 

And  here  he  was  now  in  the  silence  of  his  own 
chamber,  debating  in  his  own  mind  what  course  to 
pursue  should  certain  threats  be  carried  out.  All 
night  he  paced  the  floor  in  an  agony  of  unrest, 
weighing  the  results  of  a  strike  in  case  one  was 
precipitated  by  his  refusal  to  concede  to  the  rein- 
statement of  Dick  Stanton.  It  was  not  until  the 
shrill  morning  whistle  warned  him  of  approaching 
day  that  he  suddenly  decided  to  think  no  more 
about  it;  but  to  be  guided  by  events  as  they 
shaped  themselves. 

Having  come  to  this  conclusion,  he  turned  off 
the  lights  and  threw  open  the  window.  A  breath 
from  the  hills,  sharp  and  sweet  with  the  odors  of 
pine,  floated  in.  The  dull  gray  of  dawn  hung 
over  the  valley,  through  which  the  white  smoke 
from  many  chimneys  was  beginning  to  rise.  The 
shadowy  outlines  of  the  distant  hills  zigzagged 


280      THE  SINS  OF  THE  FATHERS 

weirdly  through  the  sailing  mists  across  the  hori- 
zon with  alluring  effect. 

Sleep  was  out  of  the  question.  So  hurriedly 
bathing  his  face  and  changing  his  clothes,  he  crept 
downstairs,  out  into  the  bracing  air,  and  off  on  a 
brisk  walk  towards  the  hills. 

He  had  taken  a  cross-country  tramp,  the  crisp 
morning  air  acting  like  a  tonic  on  his  jaded  nerves 
and  mind,  and  was  returning  very  much  the  better 
for  his  commune  with  nature,  when  ill-luck  brought 
him  to  the  station  just  as  the  train  moved  out. 
The  news  that  Ruth  had  gone  again  came  like  a 
blow  to  his  newly  raised  hopes  and  undid  in  one 
brief  second  all  the  good  of  his  two  hours'  walk. 

The  furnaces  had  long  been  in  full  blast  when 
he  staggered  into  his  private  office,  tired,  pale,  and 
haggard  looking.  Summoning  Mark  at  once,  he 
instructed  him  to  post  the  notice  to  the  effect  that 
Dick  Stanton  would  not  be  reinstated. 

Mark  saw  the  uselessness  of  further  argument 
and  was  about  to  retire  without  making  any  com- 
ment and  had  got  as  far  as  the  door,  when  he 
wheeled  about  suddenly  and  returned  to  the  desk. 

"  By  the  way,  Robert,"  he  said  in  a  soft  purr- 
ing tone,  "  Mr.  Lunt  called  about  an  hour  ago. 
He  seemed  very  anxious  to  see  you,  so  I  sent  him 
up  to  the  house.  Not  finding  you  there,  he  re- 
turned and  said  he  would  call  again  shortly.  I 
think  he  wants  to  find  out  something  about  Dr. 
Craig;  for  I  sat  near  him  last  night  while  Craig 
was  reciting  and  I  never  saw  anyone  get  so  ex- 


ROBERT  MAKES  A  PACT  281 

cited  as  he  did.  Later  I  overheard  him  asking 
Mr.  Hall  who  he  was,  how  long  he  had  been  here, 
and  where  he  had  come  from.  Mr.  Hall  referred 
him  to  you.  Will  you  see  him  if  he  comes  again?  " 

"  Certainly,  show  him  in  if  he  calls,"  assented 
Robert  wearily,  without  raising  his  eyes. 

Mark  retired;  and  Robert  took  up  his  morning 
mail.  He  felt  little  inclination  for  work.  His 
head  throbbed  with  a  dull,  heavy  pain,  and  a 
drowsy  feeling  began  to  creep  over  his  limbs.  He 
tried  to  shake  it  off,  but  all  to  no  purpose.  His 
mind  would  wander  first  to  Ruth  Bent,  then  to 
Dr.  Craig,  and  finally  to  the  possible  effects  on 
his  workmen  of  his  refusal  to  accede  to  their  de- 
mands. 

He  rose  and  began  pacing  the  room  with  quick, 
nervous  steps.  Raising  his  eyes  after  he  had 
taken  several  turns,  he  caught  the  reflection  of  his 
haggard  face  and  tousled  hair  in  a  mirror  hanging 
on  the  wall  opposite  a  window  looking  out  into 
the  side  yard.  His  sense  of  pride  was  touched  at 
his  neglected  appearance ;  and  pausing  before  the 
glass,  he  took  his  brush  and  comb  out  of  the 
drawer  and  began  smoothing  back  his  hair,  when 
the  reflection  of  a  face  at  the  window  behind  him 
caused  the  very  blood  to  stand  still  in  his  veins. 
It  was  the  face  of  his  dead  father.  For  a  moment 
he  was  powerless  to  move,  and  he  stood  staring  at 
the  apparition  in  speechless  agony.  Recovering 
himself  suddenly,  he  wheeled  about,  but  the  face 
had  gone.  Striding  to  the  window,  he  was  just  in 


282      THE  SINS  OF  THE  FATHERS 

time  to  see  the  crooked  form  of  Dick  Stanton 
sidling  round  the  corner  of  the  office. 

At  that  moment  Mr.  Lunt  was  announced.  His 
opportune  arrival  gave  Robert  no  time  to  dwell 
on  the  singular  resemblance,  a  resemblance  which 
he  had  noticed  once  before.  Or  was  it  a  freak  of 
fancy  ? 

Robert  extended  a  cordial  greeting  to  Mr.  Lunt, 
which  immediately  placed  his  caller  at  ease. 
After  the  first  exchange  of  courtesies,  however,  the 
presence  of  Mr.  Lunt  had  exactly  the  opposite 
effect  on  Robert  who,  somehow,  anticipated  some 
sort  of  evil  from  his  visit. 

Sinking  into  his  great  revolving-chair,  Robert 
motioned  his  caller  to  be  seated.  Looking  across 
at  Mr.  Lunt,  who  had  already  dropped  into  a 
chair  in  front  of  the  desk,  Robert  asked  with  busi- 
ness-like promptness: 

"  Well,  Mr.  Lunt,  have  you  been  able  to  nail 
any  clue  yet  ?  " 

"  No ;  but  it  is  not  about  that  affair  I  wish  to 
speak."  Then  glancing  apprehensively  around 
the  room,  he  leaned  half-way  across  the  desk  and 
whispered,  "  Are  we  quite  alone?  " 

"  Yes,  quite,"  answered  Robert,  eying  him  curi- 
ously. 

"  Good!"  he  ejaculated,  the  pupils  of  his  small 
eyes  contracting  with  a  subtle  gleam.  "  You  see, 
my  profession  calls  for  extreme  caution.  And  the 
matter  in  hand  is  of  such  a  delicate  nature  that  J 


ROBERT  MAKES  A  PACT  283 

must  impose  absolute  secrecy  on  you  to  begin  with 
—  absolute  secrecy  —  do  you  agree  ?  " 

Robert  nodded  in  acquiescence.  He  could  not 
have  done  otherwise  had  he  wished,  for  the  glint 
in  the  slanting  eyes,  as  the  pupils  dilated  and  con- 
tracted unremittedly,  exerted  a  sort  of  hypnotic 
power  over  his  weary  senses ;  and  the  secretive 
manner  exhibited  by  the  detective  roused  his  curi- 
osity in  no  small  degree.  He  had  already  told 
him  that  his  business  had  nothing  to  do  with  the 
shooting ;  what  then  did  all  this  secretiveness 
mean?  He  had  not  long  to  wait  for  his  answer. 

"  Good ! "  came  with  a  guttural  sound  from  be- 
tween the  thin  lips.  "  I  will  be  brief  and  come  at 
once  to  business.  I  know  I  can  trust  you  to  help 
in  the  cause  of  justice.  Last  night  I  recognized 
the  man  who  calls  himself  Mr.  Craig,  or  Dr.  Craig, 
as  the  man  for  whom  the  detectives  of  three  conti- 
nents have  been  hunting  for  nearly  two  years,  and 
for  whom  a  reward  of  five  thousand  dollars  is 
standing  for  his  capture,  dead  or  alive."  He 
paused. 

Robert's  face  had  grown  ashen.  It  was  several 
minutes  ere  he  could  enunciate  a  syllable.  At  last 
he  leaned  slowly  forward  and  asked  hoarsely: 

"For  what?" 

"  For  murder." 

"  It's  a  lie !  "  flashed  Robert,  springing  to  his 
feet  and  towering  menacingly  over  the  accuser. 
"  A  downright,  malicious  lie !  " 


284      THE  SINS  OF  THE  FATHERS 

"  It's  the  truth ! "  insisted  Mr.  Lunt  calmly, 
taking  the  precaution  to  push  his  chair  back  a 
pace  beyond  Robert's  reach,  for  he  saw  he  had 
roused  a  lion  in  his  lair.  "  Did  you  ever  hear  of 
the  Bixby  murder,  one  of  the  most  atrocious  mur- 
ders of  modern  times?  " 

"  Yes,  I  think  I  recall  something  about  it." 
He  was  trembling  violently. 

"  Well,  this  man  Craig  is  none  other  than  Nor- 
man Bixby,  the  murderer." 

"  Impossible ! "  gasped  Robert,  sinking  back 
into  his  chair  almost  in  a  state  of  collapse. 

"  It  is  true,  nevertheless,"  reiterated  Mr.  Lunt 
impressively. 

"  Be  careful,  Mr.  Lunt,  how  you  accuse  an  in- 
nocent man !  I  cannot  believe  this !  it  is  a  case 
of  mistaken  identity !  "  Robert  had  collected  him- 
self and  was  marshaling  his  forces  to  the  defense 
of  the  man  whom,  only  the  night  before,  he  was  on 
the  point  of  challenging. 

"  There  is  no  mistake  in  this  case ! "  he  said 
positively. 

"  Why  are  you  so  sure?  " 

"  He  was  in  my  class  at  Harvard.  I  knew  him 
the  moment  he  began  to  recite  that  piece  last  night. 
I  have  heard  him  recite  it  dozens  of  times  at  our 
spreads.  Oh,  no ;  I  am  not  mistaken  !  " 

"  What  do  you  propose  to  do?  "  asked  Robert 
after  a  moment's  silence,  during  which  time  he 
studied  intently  the  man  before  him. 

"  Arrest  him,  hand   him   over  to  justice,   and 


285 

claim  the  reward,  just  as  I  mean  to  do  with  the 
man  who  killed  your  father,"  he  replied  with  a 
dogged  air. 

"  And  what  do  you  expect  of  me  ?  "  asked  Rob- 
ert, eying  him  curiously,  while  fencing  for  time  to 
think. 

"  Nothing,  except  to  keep  quiet  until  I  can  com- 
municate with  the  proper  authorities  and  get  them 
down  here.  I  have  set  a  watch  on  his  movements 
lest  he  should  have  recognized  me  last  night,  and 
should  now  make  an  attempt  to  escape.  In  a  small 
place  like  this,  the  presence  of  a  stranger  is  very 
soon  remarked,  and  I  thought  it  best  to  acquaint 
you  with  the  situation  before  I  took  any  definite 
steps.  Of  course,"  he  continued  significantly,  "  if 
I  or  my  man  should  require  any  assistance  in  order 
to  prevent  the  escape  of  my  prisoner,  I  shall  expect 
you  to  do  your  duty  as  a  citizen." 

"  Did  you  have  any  conversation  with  Dr.  Craig 
last  night?  "  asked  Robert,  catching  at  what  he 
conceived  to  be  a  possible  flaw  in  Mr.  Lunt's  argu- 
ment. 

"  Oh,  yes.  I  sat  across  from  him  at  the  supper 
table  and  we  conversed  a  little  on  general  topics. 
I  knew  I  had  seen  him  somewhere,  but  I  could  not 
recall  where ;  and  it  was  not  until  he  began  to  recite 
that  I  recognized  him  and  could  place  him.  You 
see,  his  beard  has  changed  his  appearance  very 
much." 

"  Have  you  changed  very  much  in  looks  since 
you  last  saw  him?  " 


286      THE  SINS  OF  THE  FATHERS 

"  No ;  at  least  I  should  say  not  very  much. 
Naturally,  I  have  grown  somewhat  older  looking. 
So  has  he." 

"  Did  he  show  any  signs  of  recognition  ?  " 

"  None  whatever." 

"  Does  not  that  fact  in  itself  strike  you  as 
singular?  If  he  were  the  man  you  take  him  to  be, 
would  he  not  have  betrayed  himself  in  some  way, 
since  you  were  so  intimate  in  college?  Or  do  you 
suppose  any  man  in  his  right  mind,  knowing  a 
price  was  set  on  his  head,  would  be  so  rash  as  to 
expose  himself  to  detection  in  the  manner  he  did 
last  night.  To  me  it  hardly  seems  possible.  By 
the  way,  Lunt  is  your  own  name?  " 

"  Yes." 

"  Why,  Dr.  Craig  knows  you  are  a  detective 
and  have  been  coming  here  off  and  on  ever  since 
my  father's  murder.  He  has  seen  you  many 
times;  he  has  told  me  so,  when  you  have  come  and 
gone  without  my  seeing  you." 

"Nevertheless,  I  am  convinced  that  he  is  the 
man !  "  declared  Mr.  Lunt  with  a  touch  of  impa- 
tience in  his  voice,  "  and  with  or  without  your  help, 
I  shall  deliver  him  up  to  justice." 

"  If  I  could  be  convinced  that  he  is  the  man 
wanted,  I  would  not  hesitate  an  instant  in  handing 
him  over  myself;  but  it  is  a  very  serious  matter 
to  accuse  a  man  of  so  horrible  a  crime  on  such 
flimsy  evidence  as  the  mere  exhibition  of  a  power 
to  mimic,"  said  Robert  gravely.  Then  after  a  mo- 
ment's silence  the  lines  around  his  mouth  relaxed, 


ROBERT  MAKES  A  PACT  287 

his  face  brightened  as  with  a  new  idea ;  and  leaning 
forward,  he  said  earnestly,  "  Let  me  make  a  propo- 
sition, Mr.  Lunt.  You  remain  in  town  over  Sun- 
day as  my  guest.  I  will  invite  Dr.  Craig  to  walk 
with  us,  drive  with  us,  and  dine  with  us.  This  will 
afford  you  an  opportunity  to  study  him  at  short 
range.  As  I  am  a  Harvard  man  also,  we  can  talk 
college  and  college  men.  Surely  he  must  betray 
himself  if  he  is  the  man  you  take  him  to  be.  He 
is  a  fine  conversationalist;  has  traveled,  and  talks 
freely  when  he  once  gets  started.  I  am  almost 
certain  he  is  not  a  Harvard  man.  I  am  under  the 
impression  that  he  comes  from  one  of  the  western 
colleges,  though  I  am  not  positive.  What  do  you 
say  to  my  plan?  " 

A  frown  darkened  the  face  of  Mr.  Lunt ;  the 
lines  deepened  between  his  shaggy  brows ;  and  for 
several  moments  he  remained  thus  as  if  pondering 
the  weighty  question  of  "  to  do  or  not  to  do." 
Suddenly  a  light  swept  across  his  face,  changing 
its  lineaments  into  an  expression  of  craft  and  cun- 
ning. Darting  a  look  at  Robert,  in  which  doubt 
and  mistrust  commingled,  he  spoke;  and  by  the 
tones  there  could  be  no  misapprehending  the  reluc- 
tance with  which  he  deferred  to  Robert's  proposal. 

"  Personally,  I  am  satisfied  beyond  the  shadow 
of  a  doubt  that  he  is  the  man.  However,  I  will 
agree  to  your  proposition,  if  by  so  doing  it  will 
make  matters  any  easier  for  you.  But  I  shall 
exact  one  condition." 

"  Name  it." 


288      TtfE  SINS  OP  THE  FATHERS 

"  That  you  will  make  a  confidant  of  no  one  in 
regard  to  his  case ;  and  that  you  will  not  help  him 
in  any  way  to  effect  his  escape.  I  shall  see  that 
he  is  kept  under  surveillance." 

"  I  promise  you  on  my  honor  as  a  man  to  give 
you  all  the  material  assistance  in  my  power.  But 
remember,  you  must  prove  your  case  before  you 
lay  hands  on  him."  He  wanted  to  add  a  hint  of 
what  might  follow  a  false  move  on  his  part,  if  per- 
chance he  fell  among  some  of  the  doctor's  adher- 
ents on  the  outskirts  of  the  town ;  only  it  occurred 
to  him  that  such  a  warning  might  savor  of  a  threat, 
so  he  checked  himself  in  time. 

Mr.  Lunt  rose,  saying  lightly : 

"  Enough,  I  will  go  now  and  return  this  after- 
noon as  your  guest.  Perhaps  between  us  we  can 
clear  up  the  mystery."  Then,  as  if  a  new  thought 
had  suddenly  penetrated  his  skull,  he  asked,  "  The 
reward  ?  Who  gets  the  reward  ?  " 

"  You,  every  penny  of  it.  Don't  let  a  trifle  like 
that  give  you  a  moment's  uneasiness !  "  There 
was  a  tinge  of  sarcasm  in  his  tone  which  his  visitor 
could  hardly  fail  to  detect;  but  he  passed  it  over 
as  unworthy  of  notice  in  view  of  the  more  impor- 
tant issue  involved. 

Robert  stepped  to  the  door  and  opened  it;  and 
bidding  his  departing  guest  "  Good  morning,"  he 
closed  the  door  behind  him,  turned  the  key  in  the 
lock,  returned  to  his  desk,  and  threw  himself 
wearily  into  his  chair  to  think  over  this  new  trou- 
ble in  all  its  phases. 


CHAPTER  XVIII 
THE  STRIKE 

After  the  departure  of  Mr.  Lunt,  Robert  sat 
motionless  before  his  desk  for  a  long  time.  Mem- 
ory flew  back  to  the  night  of  the  accident  which 
had  precipitated,  as  it  were,  the  accused  man  into 
the  very  bosom  of  his  family  circle.  He  recalled 
vividly  the  story  of  the  murder  which  filled  the 
papers  on  the  following  morning  and  for  several 
weeks  afterwards.  Then  the  persistency  of  Dr. 
St.  John  in  keeping  the  story  of  the  accident  from 
getting  into  the  papers,  and  the  secrecy  in  which 
he  shrouded  the  presence  of  the  injured  man  in  his 
home  for  months ;  all  this  trooped  rapidly  across 
his  distracted  mind.  Trivial  as  each  incident 
seemed  in  itself  at  the  time,  taken  together  at  this 
late  day  they  formed  a  sequence  which  tended  to 
strengthen  the  horrible  suspicion  which  Mr.  Lunt 
had  roused  in  his  brain,  and  to  weave  a  web  of 
guilt  around  the  accused,  which  he  tried  in  vain  to 
break  down. 

Then  on  the  other  hand,  he  thought,  what  inter- 
est had  Dr.  St.  John  in  him  to  wish  to  screen  him 
from  justice?  Did  he  have  any  suspicion  that  the 
young  man  might  be  the  murderer,  or  was  his  se- 
cretiveness  prompted  by  a  professional  whim? 


290      THE  SINS  OF  THE  FATHERS 

So  intently  was  Robert's  mind  fixed  on  the 
events  of  the  past  two  years,  and  in  trying  to  find 
some  way  of  escape  for  the  doctor  without  betray- 
ing the  confidence  he  had  pledged  to  Mr.  Lunt, 
that  he  lost  all  trace  of  time.  The  sun  rolled 
higher  towards  the  zenith,  but  he  heeded  it  not, 
until  at  length  he  was  startled  from  his  lethargy 
by  the  factory  whistle  announcing  the  hour  of 
noon.  He  sprang  to  his  feet  and  rubbed  his  eyes 
in  dismay  as  he  realized  how  he  had  wasted  the 
whole  morning. 

The  fact  was,  his  head  had  sunk  unconsciously 
on  his  breast  and  over-taxed  nature  had  asserted 
her  rights  and  closed  his  eyes  in  a  troubled  sleep, 
in  which  his  frenzied  brain  had  not  lost  for  one 
instant  a  single  thread  of  the  mystery  he  wished 
to  unravel. 

Pulling  himself  together  as  best  he  could,  he 
opened  the  door  and  passed  into  the  main  office 
where  Mark  Gibson  sat  as  usual  perched  at  his  high 
desk  with  his  eyes  bent  industriously  on  his  ledger. 
When  Robert  entered,  he  raised  his  head  and  eyed 
him  with  an  inquisitive  stare. 

"  You  look  as  if  you  had  been  asleep,"  ventured 
Mark,  dropping  his  eyes  on  the  page  and  resuming 
his  methodical  calculations. 

"  I  believe  I  have,"  answered  Robert  with  a 
yawn.  "  The  fact  is,  Mark,  I  didn't  go  to  bed  at 
all  last  night.  I  can't  stand  that  sort  of  thing  as 
some  folks  can." 

"  Ugh !  "  grunted  Mark,  raising  his  head  for  an 


THE  STRIKE  £91 

instant  and  glancing  through  the  window. 
"  You'll  have  more  reason  to  stay  up  to-night,  if 
I  am  any  judge  of  signs." 

"  What  do  you  mean? "  questioned  Robert, 
turning  his  eyes  sharply  on  Mark's  inscrutable 
face.  He  thought  Mark  referred  to  the  visit  of 
Mr.  Lunt ;  and  he  wondered  how  much  Mark  knew. 

"  Look  yonder !  "  said  Mark  in  reply,  nodding 
his  head  towards  the  window. 

Robert's  eyes  followed  the  bent  of  Mark's  nod 
and  for  a  moment  he  stood  as  if  rooted  to  the  spot. 
His  face  flushed  and  his  eyes  flashed  with  surprise 
and  anger.  For  there  in  the  square,  not  a  stone's 
throw  from  the  window,  his  eyes  met  a  sight  such 
as  Coleville  had  never  before  witnessed.  The 
green  was  packed  to  overflowing  with  a  dense 
throng  of  rough  and  unwashed  men  and  boys. 
They  had  filed  quietly  out  of  the  factory  yards 
and  assembled  on  the  green  as  if  by  preconcerted 
plans.  In  the  center  of  the  crowd,  standing  on  a 
bench,  rose  the  dwarfed  figure  of  Dick  Stanton. 
He  was  bare  headed;  and  his  long  thick  locks, 
tossed  freely  by  the  breeze,  fell  in  disorder  over 
his  white  temples.  Robert  could  see  that  he  was 
haranguing  the  crowd  with  an  impassioned  ardor; 
for  his  usually  pale  face  was  flushed,  and  his  eyes 
sparkled  with  an  unnatural  brilliancy  as  his  long 
arms  waved  excitedly  in  the  air. 

Robert  could  not  hear  what  he  was  saying;  but 
he  understood  from  the  stern,  set  expressions  on 
that  swelling  sea  of  earnest,  upturned  faces  that 


THE  SINS  OF  THE  FATHERS 

be  was  appealing  to  passion  for  support  in  his 
fight.  And  Robert  saw  as  he  watched  him  that 
he  was  just  the  stamp  of  man  to  rouse  and  lead  a 
mob  to  violence.  That  he  was  fiery-tempered,  hot- 
headed, and  reckless,  Robert  knew  from  experi- 
ence ;  and  his  heart  sank  as  the  thought  crossed  his 
mind  of  what  might  happen  should  Dick  gain  the 
ascendancy  over  such  a  mass  of  men.  And  he  was 
not  altogether  blind  to  his  own  helplessness  to 
avert  the  danger. 

The  mass  swayed  like  the  unrest  of  the  ocean 
as  the  speaker  seemed  to  rise  to  the  occasion. 
Robert  watched  the  changing  poses  of  the  big  bull 
head,  and  the  play  of  those  rough-cut  features 
with  a  sub-conscious  monition  that  he  had  seen 
their  counterpart  in  another. 

"  It  looks  rather  threatening,"  observed  Mark, 
breaking  the  silence  at  last. 

"Yes,"  admitted  Robert  with  a  start.  Then 
as  if  recollecting  himself,  he  half  questioned,  "  I 
suppose  the  notices  were  posted?  " 

"  They  were,"  answered  Mark  dryly,  "  and  this 
is  the  result." 

"  Did  you  think  they  would  carry  matters  to 
this  pitch?  "  asked  Robert,  removing  his  eyes  from 
the  crowd  to  scrutinize  Mark's  face. 

"  I  really  didn't  speculate  very  much  on  this 
phase  of  the  question,"  replied  Mark  cautiously. 
"  One  can  never  tell  what  a  desperate  man  will  do ; 
nor  to  what  length  he  can  lead  others." 

"  Would  you  call  this  a  strike,  or  merely  a  dem- 


THE  STRIKE  293 

onstration  for  the  sake  of  effect?  "  asked  Robert, 
looking  off  through  the  window  and  frowning 
darkly  across  the  intervening  heads  of  the  crowd 
to  the  animated  face  of  Dick  Stanton  who  still  held 
his  listeners  as  if  spellbound. 

"  Monday  morning  will  tell.  In  the  meantime 
Stanton  will  do  his  best  to  straighten  out  old 
scores,"  answered  Mark,  closing  his  ledger  with  a 
vicious  bang  and  sliding  down  from  his  seat. 

"  You  mean  his  discharge  for  bringing  beer  into 
the  shops?"  He  glanced  sideways  into  Mark's 
serious  face. 

Mark  had  reached  his  side  now  and  was  stand- 
ing with  his  hands  thrust  deep  into  the  pockets  of 
his  trousers,  swaying  gently  to  and  fro  on  toe  and 
heel  with  exasperating  coolness.  The  rabble  was 
increasing  momentarily.  On  the  outer  edges  a 
fair  sprinkling  of  women  and  girls  were  elbowing 
their  way  into  the  crowd,  while  others  were  hurry- 
ing from  divers  directions  to  swell  the  numbers. 

"  Yes,"  answered  Mark  after  a  slight  pause, 
"  and  also  because  of  your  closing  up  his  uncle's 
place  last  year.  Dick  is  a  pretty  shrewd  and 
enterprising  fellow.  He  knows  the  value  of  a  dol- 
lar to  a  cent.  It  was  his  custom  for  years  to 
spend  his  leisure  time  doing  odd  jobs  round  his 
uncle's  place,  and  to  save  every  penny  of  his  earn- 
ings. Of  course,  your  driving  his  uncle  out  of 
town  cut  off  that  source  of  supply  of  savings,  and 
drove  him  to  the  expedient  of  running  a  blind 
tiger  on  his  own  account.  And  he  might  have  con- 


THE  SINS  OF  THE  FATHERS 

tinued  to  run  it  till  doomsday  had  not  you,  with 
your  eternally  watchful  eyes,  ferreted  it  out,  and 
discharged  him." 

"  But  you  wouldn't  expect  me  to  allow  him  to 
keep  on  in  his  nefarious  traffic ;  to  give  him,  as  it 
were,  carte  blanche  to  run  an  open  bar  in  the  mill 
yard !  "  exclaimed  Robert  impatiently ;  and  clasp- 
ing his  hands  behind  his  back,  he  began  to  pace  the 
room  with  short,  nervous  steps. 

This  was  the  one  question  on  which  he  and  Mark 
could  never  agree.  After  taking  several  turns  to 
and  fro  across  the  room,  he  paused,  and  glancing 
once  more  at  the  crowd  in  the  square,  said : 

"  I  acted  in  this  matter  only  for  the  best  inter- 
ests of  my  workmen ;  and  I  believe  they  will  even- 
tually see  it  as  I  do." 

Mark  gave  a  cynical  laugh  and  shook  his  head 
disparagingly. 

"  You  are  altogether  too  sanguine  of  finding 
that  reputed  vein  of  human  goodness  in  the  heart 
of  every  man,  like  the  boy  searching  for  the  pot 
of  gold  at  the  end  of  the  rainbow.  Personally, 
I  take  mighty  little  stock  in  such  theoretical  non- 
sense. Experience  has  proved  to  me,  as  it  will 
prove  to  you  if  you  live  long  enough,  that,  indi- 
vidually, man  is  some  good,  all  good,  or  no  good 
at  all,  according  to  his  incentives  and  opportuni- 
ties to  do  good  or  evil."  Then  waving  his  hand 
towards  the  throng  in  the  square,  his  tone  changed 
and  deepened  into  bitter  sarcasm  as  he  proceeded. 
"  You  see  there  the  culmination  of  all  your  reform 


THE  STRIKE  295 

work.  After  having  spent  your  thousands,  and 
expended  your  best  thoughts  and  energy  in  your 
endeavors  of  a  moral  uplift  to  better  the  condition 
of  these  people,  there  they  stand,  ready  to  turn  on 
you  like  a  viper.  They  have  imbibed  just  enough 
of  your  higher  ideals  of  living  to  want  to  run  your 
business  in  their  own  way.  They  will  listen  and 
be  led  by  the  dictates  of  yonder  rattlebrain,  who 
has  nothing  at  stake  but  a  beer  keg.  He  will  be 
hailed  as  their  deliverer  from  the  house  of  bond- 
age ;  while  you  will  be  condemned  as  their  oppres- 
sor!" 

"  Come,  come,  Mark,  you  are  too  severe  in  your 
judgment  of  human  nature.  I  fear  you  are  grow- 
ing cynical,"  expostulated  Robert.  "  The  people 
appreciate  what  I  have  done  for  them.  Surely 
that  counts  for  something." 

"  Appreciate  ?  Yes,  this  looks  like  it !  "  And 
with  a  short,  sarcastic  laugh,  he  nodded  towards 
the  swaying  mass  in  the  square.  "  Oh,  the  fickle- 
ness of  humanity !  Give  the  populace  bread  and 
the  circus  to-day,  with  a  promise  of  the  circus  and 
bread  to-morrow,  and  it  will  shout  for  you  to  a 
man.  Stanton  knows  this  better  than  you  do. 
He  may  not  be  able  to  furnish  the  bread,  but  he 
can  provide  the  circus,  and  no  doubt  will,  for  a 
few  days  at  least.  In  the  end,  the  Lord  only 
knows  what  will  happen." 

Robert  was  about  to  speak  when  a  loud  shout 
caused  both  to  turn  their  attention  to  the  green. 
It  seemed  to  them  as  if  ten  thousand  caps  were 


296      THE  SINS  OF  THE  FATHERS 

floating  in  the  air;  while  the  densely  packed  mass 
swayed  backward  and  forward,  rising  and  falling 
like  the  sea  in  motion.  Apparently,  Dick  had 
finished  his  speech  and  the  people  were  showering 
their  plaudits  upon  him.  Hat  in  hand,  he  stood 
bowing,  smilingly  accepting  their  homage. 

While  the  cheering  was  still  at  its  height,  Dick 
was  caught  up  and  borne  away  on  the  shoulders 
of  one  of  his  stalwart  comrades,  followed  by  a 
cheering  and  howling  mob.  In  a  few  moments  the 
square  was  clear;  but  the  echoing  shouts  of  the 
men  on  their  triumphal  march  towards  Stanton's 
hotel  floated  over  the  village  long  after  the  rabble 
had  disappeared  from  view. 

Robert  and  Mark  from  their  position  in  the 
office  followed  the  moving  mass  until  the  last  man 
had  swung  round  the  corner  from  sight,  then  Rob- 
ert said  quietly : 

"  I  think  I'll  go  to  lunch ;  Mother  and  Bell  will 
be  anxious."  And  taking  his  hat,  he  left  the  office. 

Robert  walked  leisurely  across  the  road  and  up 
the  hill  to  the  house.  Mrs.  Cole  and  Bell  met  him 
on  the  veranda  in  a  ferment  of  excitement  over  the 
prospective  strike.  Rumors  and  counter-rumors 
of  what  had  happened  and  of  what  was  about  to 
happen  if  the  demands  of  the  men  were  not  acceded 
to  immediately  had  come  to  their  ears  from  the 
servants,  whose  inflamed  imaginations  had  con- 
jured all  kinds  of  calamities  from  the  gathering  in 
the  square. 


THE  STRIKE  297 

"  This  would  not  have  happened  had  your  fa- 
ther lived,"  moaned  Mrs.  Cole.  "  Why  this  dis- 
content now,  and  after  you  have  done  so  much  for 
them,  so  much  to  make  their  lives  the  more  livable? 
I  can't  understand  it !  " 

Thinking  it  best  to  take  them  into  his  confidence, 
he  threw  himself  into  a  chair  on  the  veranda,  and 
motioned  them  to  be  seated.  Then  he  told  them 
of  his  troubles  with  Dick  Stanton  of  which  the 
gathering  in  the  square  was  the  outgrowth. 
Knowing  their  lack  of  sympathy  in  his  commu- 
nistic theories,  he  hardly  expected  them  to  take 
sides  with  him  in  his  present  difficulties.  In  this 
he  was  mistaken. 

Mrs.  Cole  had  known  Dick  Stanton  from  his 
first  coming  to  the  village,  a  puny  little  mite  of 
humanity,  whom  no  one  could  pass  without  paus- 
ing to  pity.  At  first  she  had  taken  an  interest 
in  the  child  because  of  his  deformity ;  but  Mr.  Cole 
had  quickly  put  a  stop  to  her  having  any  inter- 
course with  the  Stanton  family.  "  They  were  a 
bad  lot,  and  it  was  no  charity  to  help  such  as 
they,"  was  his  way  of  putting  a  quietus  on  her 
good  offices.  She  had,  however,  watched  him  grow 
up,  into  a  chuckle-headed  youth  whom  everybody 
shunned.  At  school  he  acquired  the  reputation 
of  a  bully,  and  was  known  as  the  terror  of  the 
small  children,  because  of  the  hideous  faces  he 
would  make  at  them.  Recalling  all  this,  after 
hearing  Robert's  side  of  the  controversy,  she  be- 


298      THE  SINS  OF  THE  FATHERS 

came  his  most  ardent  supporter,  and  expressed 
herself  as  willing  to  endure  any  sacrifice  to  help 
him  win  his  point. 

While  they  were  discussing  Dick's  probable  suc- 
cess or  failure,  Mr.  Lunt  made  his  appearance, 
coming  up  the  hill.  Robert  started  at  sight  of 
him  and  for  a  moment  was  at  a  loss  how  to  account 
for  his  presence  at  the  house.  Suddenly  a  happy 
thought  struck  him  and  he  said,  casually : 

"  Mother,  I  have  invited  Mr.  Lunt  to  be  my 
guest  over  Sunday.  With  things  as  they  are  in 
the  village  one  does  not  know  what  may  develop. 
Not  that  I  shall  need  a  body  guard,"  he  said  with 
a  sad  smile,  "  but  it  is  always  well  to  provide  for 
the  unexpected." 

This  cleared  the  way  for  the  reception  of  the 
detective,  and  headed  off  any  and  all  questions  as 
to  his  business.  Both  Mrs.  Cole  and  Bell  received 
him  with  a  degree  of  cordiality  quite  surprising  to 
Robert.  A  feeling  of  relief  and  satisfaction 
thrilled  him.  He  could  now  see  where  the  presence 
of  Mr.  Lunt,  instead  of  being  an  embarrassment 
to  him,  would  lend  a  sense  of  security  to  the  whole 
household.  Leaving  his  entertainment  to  Bell  and 
his  mother,  Robert  excused  himself  and  went  up  to 
his  room  to  dress  for  lunch. 

Reaching  his  room,  he  closed  and  locked  the  door 
and  threw  himself  into  a  chair  to  think.  As  yet, 
he  had  formed  no  plans  of  procedure  for  the  con- 
duct of  this  strange  and  distasteful  undertaking, 
which  grew  more  and  more  disagreeable  and  re- 


THE  STRIKE  299 

pulsive  the  more  he  dwelt  on  it.  He  wondered  if 
the  part  he  was  about  to  play  would  not  savor  of 
treachery  in  the  event  of  Mr.  Lunt's  surmises  be- 
ing correct.  Supposing  the  doctor  were  trapped 
in  his  home,  with  he  himself  a  party  to  the  trap- 
ping? Not  that  he  wished  to  protect  crime;  but 
he  shrank  from  betraying  the  man  who  had  won 
his  way  into  almost  every  heart  and  home  in  the 
town.  And  besides,  as  he  recalled  the  crime,  his 
sympathy  had  been  with  the  slayer  rather  than  the 
slain.  There  had  been  extenuating  circumstances, 
brought  out  at  the  time,  which  now  struggled  to 
shape  themselves  in  his  brain  to  palliate  the  horror 
of  the  crime.  Here  his  thoughts  flew  off  at  a  tan- 
gent, and  the  face  of  Ruth  Bent  as  he  had  seen  it 
last  night,  flushed  and  angry,  rose  before  him. 
Only  for  a  moment  did  he  allow  his  thoughts  to 
dwell  on  her;  he  knew  the  danger  too  well  to  in- 
dulge in  a  dream  that  could  never  be  realized.  So 
putting  it  aside  he  rose  languidly  and  began  his 
toilet.  He  gave  up  all  attempts  to  mark  out  a 
line  of  action.  So  far  as  he  was  concerned  now, 
events  must  take  their  own  haphazard  course;  and 
he  would  act  in  accordance  with  the  needs  of  the 
moment.  And  events  were  shaping  themselves 
faster  than  he  knew. 

He  loitered  over  his  toilet  as  long  as  courtesy 
to  his  guest  would  allow,  then  descended  to  the 
parlor,  where  he  found  not  only  Mr.  Lunt,  but  also 
Dr.  St.  John  and  Dr.  Craig  in  waiting. 

The  doctors  had  hastened  to  call  as  soon  as 


3<X)      THE  SINS  OF  THE  FATHERS 

they  heard  of  the  demonstration  on  the  green. 
Robert's  face  paled  perceptibly  as  he  clasped  the 
hand  of  Dr.  Craig,  and  his  voice  trembled  with 
emotion  when  he  tried  to  speak.  He  attempted  to 
smile,  but  his  effort  was  a  dismal  failure;  for  the 
smile  that  overspread  his  face  gave  such  a  tired 
and  sickly  cast  to  his  features  that  it  alarmed  his 
mother.  So  impressed  was  she  by  his  changed  ap- 
pearance that  she  was  constrained  from  appealing 
to  Dr.  St.  John  for  advice  only  by  Robert's  taking 
that  worthy's  arm  and  leading  the  way  in  to  lunch. 

Lunch  passed  off  fairly  well.  The  strike  situa- 
tion was,  naturally,  the  engrossing  topic  of  con- 
versation. Dr.  Craig,  who  had  been  in  the  heart 
of  the  crowd  on  the  green,  rehearsed  the  speech  of 
Stanton  with  a  correctness  of  tone  and  manner- 
isms very  amusing  to  his  listeners,  and  showed  his 
remarkable  memory  and  powers  of  mimicry  to  per- 
fection. Robert  exchanged  glances  with  Mr. 
Lunt,  and  thought  he  detected  a  doubtful  expres- 
sion in  those  glinting  black  eyes.  His  spirits  rose 
in  proportion  as  Mr.  Lunt's  appeared  to  sink. 

Immediately  after  lunch  the  two  doctors  excused 
themselves  on  the  pretext  of  making  professional 
calls.  While  the  old  doctor  considered  himself 
pretty  familiar  with  the  facts  leading  up  to  the 
present  situation,  he  had  suddenly  developed  a 
plan  of  gathering  inside  and  outside  information 
on  the  issues  at  stake. 

True  to  his  agreement  with  Mr.  Lunt,  Robert 


THE  STRIKE  301 

pressed  Dr.  Craig  to  return  for  dinner,  though  he 
felt  like  a  traitor  while  urging  him. 

Robert  spent  the  afternoon  at  the  office  with 
Mark,  returning  home  barely  in  time  to  dress  for 
dinner.  Nothing  further  had  developed.  The 
village  remained  as  quiet  as  on  a  Puritan  Sabbath. 
But  for  all  that  Mark  insisted  on  every  precaution 
being  taken.  Extra  watchmen  had  been  distrib- 
uted in  and  around  the  works,  and  over  the  grounds 
of  the  estate,  much  to  Robert's  annoyance. 

Mr.  Lunt  and  Dr.  Craig  met  him  at  the  gate 
and  walked  up  the  hill  with  him.  Dr.  St.  John 
had  not  put  in  his  appearance  when  dinner  was 
announced ;  but  he  came  puffing  up  the  steps  just 
as  the  party  were  being  seated. 

The  old  doctor  was  so  much  at  home  in  the 
family  that  he  needed  no  special  invitation  to  join 
them  at  dinner.  A  place  was  always  reserved  for 
him  and  he  never  hesitated  to  occupy  it  when  the 
humor  was  on  him.  So  he  bustled  into  the  dining- 
room  in  his  usual  manner  and  dropped  into  his 
seat  with  the  air  of  a  privileged  personage. 

Dr.  St.  John  was  brimming  over  with  the  pros 
and  cons  of  the  issue  pending  between  Robert  and 
the  workmen;  which  were  warmly  discussed  be- 
tween courses  and  long  after  the  little  party  had 
retired  to  the  parlor.  He  had  learned  that  while 
the  majority  of  the  workmen  were  not  in  sympathy 
with  Stanton,  under  the  rules  of  a  recently  formed 
union,  of  which  Stanton  was  president,  they  were 


302      THE  SINS  OF  THE  FATHERS 

bound  to  stand  by  him  until  his  discharge  was 
shown  to  be  justifiable, —  his  contention  being  that 
there  was  no  rule  of  the  plant  which  prohibited  his 
bringing  beer  into  the  yard,  and,  therefore,  his 
discharge  for  a  breach  of  rules  was  unjustifiable. 

"  Evidently  these  fellows  know  how  to  stretch  a 
point  on  a  pinch,"  laughed  Robert  in  a  pungent 
tone.  He  had  listened  in  silence  while  the  old  doc- 
tor had  recounted  the  various  sides  of  the  contro- 
versy as  heard  about  town.  He  had  also  listened 
to  the  discussion  which  these  reports  precipitated 
among  the  other  members  of  the  party  until  he 
could  contain  himself  no  longer. 

"  Well,"  he  continued  after  a  moment's  pause, 
"  if  Dick  Stanton,  or  any  man  in  my  employ 
thinks  I  am  obliged  to  post  a  copy  of  every  rule 
I  consider  essential  to  the  right  conduct  of  my 
business  at  every  conspicuous  corner  of  the  plant, 
he'll  find  himself  mistaken.  When  I  gave  old  Jack 
Stanton  orders  to  leave  the  town,  I  thereby  served 
notice  of  my  position  on  the  liquor  question. 
What  right  had  Dick  Stanton  or  anyone  else  to 
•suppose  I  would  tolerate  inside  of  the  mill  yard 
what  I  objected  to  on  the  streets  of  the  town? 
The  whole  thing  is  preposterous !  And  I'll  see  the 
•works  go  to  ruin  and  rot  before  I'll  give  in  one 
jot  to  such  unreasonable  demands  as  the  reinstate- 
ment of  this  braggart !  It  is  all  bosh  about  my 
being  prejudiced  against  him  on  account  of  his 
being  the  president  of  the  union.  I  didn't  know 
till  yesterday  that  the  men  had  organized.  Not 


THE  STRIKE  303 

knowing  of  his  elevated  position,  how,  in  the  name 
of  common  sense,  could  I  use  it  as  a  weapon 
against  him  ?  Let  them  go  on  and  do  their  worst ; 
I  have  taken  my  stand,  and  will  maintain  it  at  any 
cost!" 

He  rose,  as  a  signal  to  drop  the  subject,  and 
inviting  the  gentlemen  to  the  billiard-room,  led  the 
way. 


CHAPTER  XIX 
MARK  TO  THE  RESCUE 

Next  morning  at  breakfast  Robert  suggested  a 
drive  through  the  hills.  They  could  call  for  Dr. 
Craig  and  take  him  along.  Everything  was  quiet 
in  the  village  and  there  was  no  need  of  making 
themselves  prisoners.  Mr.  Lunt  agreed  with  him 
and  Robert  ordered  the  carriage. 

Robert  was  fast  losing  his  confidence  in  Mr. 
Lunt  as  a  detective.  He  was  not  a  little  puzzled 
at  Lunt's  manner  of  treating  Dr.  Craig.  Up  to 
this  point  he  had  hardly  taken  any  interest  in  the 
person  of  the  doctor.  He  seemed  to  have  washed 
his  hands  of  the  whole  proceedings  and  to  have 
thrown  the  burden,  not  only  of  the  doctor's  safe 
keeping,  but  also  of  proving  his  guilt  or  innocence, 
on  Robert  himself.  Or  had  he  become  so  absorbed 
in  making  a  conquest  of  Bell  that  he  had  forgotten 
the  main  object  of  his  visit? 

It  was  half  past  eight  when  Mr.  Lunt  and  Rob- 
'ert  entered  the  carriage  and  were  driven  away, 
after  promising  Mrs.  Cole  to  be  back  in  time  to 
attend  church  with  her  and  Bell.  The  coachman 
turned  his  horses  into  the  west  avenue,  which  would 

bring  them  out  on  the  highway  just  above  the 
304 


MARK  TO  THE  RESCUE  305 

residence  of  Dr.  St.  John,  where  they  were  to  call 
for  Dr.  Craig. 

The  avenue  was  lined  on  each  side  with  a  double 
row  of  maples  which  shut  off  all  view  of  the  high- 
way. The  trees  were  gorgeous  in  their  bright 
colors,  red  and  yellow  predominating.  Mr.  Lunt 
drew  in  a  deep  breath  of  admiration  as  he  gazed 
adown  the  long  vista  of  brilliant  foliage  dappled 
with  the  morning  sunshine;  while  Robert  sat  back 
and  enjoyed  the  scenic  changes  along  the  winding 
path  in  silence. 

As  they  passed  through  the  gate  leading  into  the 
highway,  the  horses  gave  a  sudden  start,  and 
rounding  into  the  road  under  full  sway,  almost 
dashed  into  a  long  line  of  half  tipsy  men  who  came 
swinging  down  the  road  under  the  leadership  of 
Dick  Stanton. 

The  coachman  quickly  reined  in  his  horses  and 
tried  to  turn  aside;  but  the  marchers,  four 
abreast,  moving  squarely  in  the  middle  of  the  road, 
blocked  him.  As  the  road  at  this  point  was  nar- 
row, with  a  deep  gully  running  along  the  outer 
edges,  there  was  not  room  on  either  side  of  the 
marchers  to  pass.  The  coachman  saw  the  danger 
and  in  order  to  avoid  an  accident  brought  the 
horses  to  a  dead  stop.  This  was  hailed  with  a 
wild  shout  of  derision. 

Not  an  inch  did  the  marchers  give  way  as  they 
swung  down  under  the  heads  of  the  quivering 
horses;  and  ere  a  word  could  be  spoken  or  their 
designs  surmised,  a  dozen  men  had  sprung  for  their 


306      THE  SINS  OF  THE  FATHERS 

heads  and  wheeled  them  about  into  the  line  of 
march. 

Robert  was  indignant  and  half  rose  in  his  seat 
to  order  them  off  when  Mr.  Lunt  pulled  him  back 
and  whispered: 

"  As  you  value  your  life,  don't  offer  any  re- 
sistance! We  are  in  their  power  and  must  make 
the  best  of  it." 

By  this  time  Robert  himself  saw  how  futile 
words  would  be;  for  the  ranks  had  divided  and  the 
men  had  pressed  up  double  file  alongside  of  the 
carriage,  which  was  moving  slowly,  hemmed  in  on 
all  sides  by  a  drunken  mob.  Close  by  the  horses' 
heads  a  large  transparency  bobbed  and  swayed  on 
a  level  with  Robert's  vision,  bearing  the  following 
device :  "  Water's  all  right  for  washing ;  beer's 
the  stuff  to  drink." 

Folding  his  arms  across  his  breast,  Robert  sat 
up  straight  and  dignified,  and  resigned  himself  to 
the  inevitable.  His  face  wore  a  set,  stern,  angry 
scowl ;  yet  it  but  faintly  portrayed  the  storm  rag- 
ing within.  He  felt  as  he  rode  amid  that  horde  of 
liquor-crazed  men  as  if  his  faith  in  human  nature 
was  slipping  from  his  soul.  He  went  so  far  as  to 
say  aloud  that  he  would  rather  see  the  torch  ap- 
plied and  the  works  reduced  to  ashes  than  to  sub- 
mit to  the  dictates  of  such  tyrants. 

Down  the  hill  into  the  main  thoroughfare  the 
procession  wended  its  way,  gathering  force  as  it 
went,  until  by  the  time  it  halted  in  the  square, 
almost  every  man,  woman,  and  child  had  joined 


MARK  TO  THE  RESCUE  307 

the  ranks,  either  as  sympathizers  or  as  protestants 
against  such  a  desecration  of  the  Sabbath,  and  also 
against  the  humiliating  treatment  of  Mr.  Cole. 

While  on  the  move  the  men  had  not  been  what 
might  be  called  disorderly ;  in  fact,  for  men  so  far 
under  the  influence  of  liquor  as  they  were,  Mr.  Lunt 
considered  them  a  remarkably  well-behaved  set 
of  men.  Those  flanking  the  landau  carried  them- 
selves with  a  sort  of  shamef  acedness ;  while  those 
in  the  rear  maintained  a  studied  decorum,  except 
for  an  occasional  outburst  of  triumph  as  some 
recruit  fell  into  line.  Once  or  twice  on  the  way 
a  snatch  of  a  bar-room  ditty,  sung  with  a  rollick- 
ing chorus,  broke  the  stillness  of  the  Sabbath 
morning.  Aside  from  this  there  was  no  rowdyism. 

But  when  the  green  was  reached  it  seemed  as  if 
Bedlam  had  broken  loose.  Disputations  ran  high 
on  all  sides.  Dick  Stanton,  mounting  the  bench 
as  he  had  done  on  the  previous  day,  tried  to  speak, 
but  his  voice  was  drowned  in  the  shouts  of  protests 
that  rose  on  every  hand. 

The  carriage  had  been  drawn  up  at  the  edge  of 
the  green ;  and  the  vigilance  of  those  who  had  per- 
formed special  escort  duty  was  somewhat  relaxed. 
Except  for  the  two  leaders  who  still  clung  to  the 
bridles  at  the  heads  of  the  horses,  the  carriage 
stood  unguarded.  All  the  others  were  giving  their 
attention  either  to  the  speaker  or  to  the  wranglers 
around  them. 

Mark  Gibson  was  in  the  office  and  saw  the  pro- 
cession as  it  wound  into  the  square.  At  a  glance 


he  took  in  the  predicament  and  threatened  danger 
of  Robert  and  Mr.  Lunt.  He  saw  that  something 
must  be  done  to  extricate  them  before  the  men 
entirely  lost  their  heads. 

With  these  thoughts  uppermost  in  his  mind 
Mark  left  the  office  by  the  side  door  and  made  his 
way  cautiously  out  to  the  square  from  the  upper 
gate,  and  reached  the  crowd  without  being  noticed. 
Edging  his  steps  towards  the  carriage,  he  brought 
up  on  the  outer  side  and  mounted  the  seat  beside 
the  driver.  Mark  always  moved  quietly  and  with 
methodical  exactness ;  and  in  this  case,  ere  any 
one  of  the  few  who  saw  his  sinewy  form  rise  slowly 
above  the  heads  of  the  crowd  and  settle  down  on 
the  high  seat  could  divine  his  motive,  he  had  taken 
the  reins  from  the  nerveless  hands  of  the  coachman, 
snatched  the  whip  from  its  socket,  and  dealt  such 
stinging  cuts  right  and  left  on  the  wrists  of  the 
men  who  held  the  bridles  that  they  let  go  their  hold 
and  sprang  back  with  a  howl  of  pain. 

Another  whizzing  flash  of  the  long  whip  flew 
right  and  left  and  came  down  with  startling  effect 
on  the  flanks  of  the  spirited  horses.  They  shiv- 
ered, stamped,  and  reared  wildly  on  their  haunches. 
The  crowd  fell  back  in  consternation,  leaving  the 
road  clear.  This  was  what  Mark  had  counted  on ; 
and  giving  rein  to  the  frightened  horses,  away  they 
dashed  like  the  wind ;  and  before  those  nearest  had 
recovered  from  their  astonishment,  or  the  rest  of 
the  mob  really  knew  what  had  happened,  the  car- 
riage had  cleared  fifty  yards. 


MARK  TO  THE  RESCUE  309 

A  shout  of  rage  rent  the  air  and  the  crowd  made 
a  stampede  in  the  direction  of  the  flying  carriage. 
On  flew  the  quivering  horses !  On  rushed  the  mad- 
dened crowd!  The  carriage  swayed  from  side  to 
side  with  the  momentum  of  increasing  speed,  leav- 
ing in  its  rear  a  cloud  of  dust  which  choked  and 
half  blinded  the  pursuers  and  caused  many  of  them 
to  drop  out  of  the  race  within  the  first  half  mile. 
At  the  end  of  a  mile  the  last  man  gave  up  the 
chase,  and  with  a  curse  threw  himself  on  the  grassy 
bank  at  the  roadside  to  get  his  wind  ere  he  started 
back. 

Another  mile  was  covered ;  then  knowing  he  had 
outwitted  the  mob,  Mark  tightened  the  reins  on  the 
foaming  steeds  and  in  a  few  moments  brought  them 
to  a  steady  trot. 

"  Well  done,  Mark !  "  cried  Robert  gleefully, 
standing  up  in  the  carriage  and  patting  the  old 
man  affectionately  on  the  back.  "  You  are  a  born 
sport!  Give  the  reins  to  Jim  now  and  come  in 
here  with  us !  " 

Mark  obeyed  without  a  word;  and  a  moment 
later  he  was  seated  beside  Robert  in  the  carriage 
facing  Mr.  Lunt. 

"  A  splendid  piece  of  horsemanship !  "  exclaimed 
Mr.  Lunt  in  complimentary  terms  as  Mark  seated 
himself. 

Mark  bowed  gravely,  but  made  no  reply.  Rob- 
ert glanced  at  him  apprehensively. 

"  Things  begin  to  look  serious  in  the  village," 
remarked  Robert  as  Mark  settled  himself  back 


310      THE  SINS  OF  THE  FATHERS 

comfortably  in  his  seat.  "  I  wonder  if  I  ought 
not  to  call  in  a  few  state  police?  " 

."  No ! "  replied  Mark  emphatically,  "  that 
would  be  the  worst  move  you  could  make  at  this 
stage.  The  crisis  will  come  to-morrow  morning. 
It  will  be  time  enough  then  to  take  the  defensive. 
Any  seemingly  antagonistic  measures  taken  to-day 
might  precipitate  what  you  wish  to  prevent." 

After  this  Mark  lapsed  into  silence  and  during 
the  remainder  of  the  ride  took  no  part  in  the  con- 
versation other  than  to  answer  a  question  when 
put  directly  to  him.  To  avoid  further  contact 
with  the  workmen  while  in  their  present  mood,  the 
coachman  took  a  roundabout  course  and  returned 
home  through  the  meadow  lands  and  across  a 
rustic  bridge  that  spanned  the  river  at  the  rear  of 
the  grounds. 

When  they  alighted  at  the  side  door,  Mrs.  Cole 
and  Bell,  very  much  perturbed  in  mind,  were  there 
to  meet  them,  with  Dr.  St.  John  and  Dr.  Craig 
bringing  up  in  the  rear.  Mrs.  Cole  took  Mark  by 
the  hand  and  thanked  him  with  tears  in  her  eyes 
for  his  interference  in  behalf  of  Robert. 

"  Richard  always  said  you  were  the  quickest- 
witted  man  he  ever  knew,  and  his  judgment  was  of 
the  highest  in  all  matters,  as  you  know,"  she  said 
proudly. 

All  were  profuse  in  their  praise  of  Mark's 
stratagem,  a  glowing  account  of  which  had  been 
brought  up  to  the  ladies  by  Dr.  St.  John  who  had 
hastened  to  the  square  on  hearing  of  Robert's 


MARK  TO  THE  RESCUE  311 

precarious  position.  But  Mark  had  solved  the 
question  of  Robert's  escape  before  the  doctor 
reached  the  crowd ;  and  it  only  remained  for  him 
to  endeavor  to  appease  the  anger  of  the  men  and 
induce  them  to  go  home  quietly  and  respect  the 
Sabbath.  In  this  he  was  successful;  for  the  ma- 
jority of  the  men  were  law-abiding  and  had  gath- 
ered out  of  mere  curiosity. 

Mark  listened  and  accepted  their  commendations 
with  a  contemptuous  smile  curling  his  thin  lips. 
Mrs.  Cole  and  Bell  pressed  him  to  remain  for 
lunch.  He  declined  the  invitation,  pleading  duty 
as  an  excuse.  He  pointed  out  that  in  view  of 
what  had  already  happened,  his  place  was  at  the 
office  to  safeguard  the  books  of  the  concern  against 
a  possible  outburst  of  the  disaffected  portion  of 
the  men. 

"  But  everything  is  quiet  now,"  insisted  Mrs. 
Cole. 

"  That  may  be,"  replied  Mark  with  a  dubious 
shake  of  his  head,  "  but  that  doesn't  prove  they 
can  not  and  will  not  gather  again  in  as  short  order 
as  they  did  this  morning.  Fifty  men  under  Stan- 
ton's  leadership  could  do  considerable  mischief  in 
a  very  small  space  of  time  if  they  once  broke 
loose." 

This  clinched  the  argument  and  he  was  allowed 
to  depart  without  further  hindrance.  As  he 
turned  to  go  he  asked  Robert  to  walk  down  the 
hill  with  him,  and  they  set  off  together  in  silence. 
Robert  had  felt  during  the  ride  home  that  Mark 


312      THE  SINS  OF  THE  FATHERS 

had  something  on  his  mind.  They  walked  briskly 
down  the  avenue  until  they  were  well  beyond  hear- 
ing of  the  house,  when  Mark  stopped  abruptly  and 
looking  cautiously  round  to  make  sure  they  were 
alone,  he  asked  somewhat  impatiently: 

"  What  on  earth  possessed  you  to  invite  this 
man  Lunt  to  make  his  headquarters  at  your  home 
just  at  this  time?  " 

Robert  started  and  looked  at  him  with  a  curious 
light  in  his  eyes  as  he  asked: 

"Why?" 

"  Because  the  whole  trouble  this  morning  started 
from  the  fact  of  your  having  a  private  detective 
stopping  at  your  home.  When  he  left  Stanton's 
tavern  yesterday  morning  he  gave  out  that  he  had 
been  invited  to  spend  the  week  end  as  your  guest. 
Dick  spread  the  news  last  night  and  made  quite 
a  handle  of  it,  and  got  the  men  wild.  They  de- 
clare you  have  insulted  them  by  bringing  in  a  pri- 
vate detective  to  spy  on  them ;  they  declare  further 
that  unless  he  leaves  town  immediately  they  will 
ride  him  on  a  rail  to  the  station  and  dump  him 
into  a  freight  car  headed  for  anywhere." 

Robert  became  very  much  disturbed  at  Mark's 
information.  He  gritted  his  teeth  and  ground  his 
heels  into  the  graveled  path  as  he  listened.  He 
could  not  tell  Mark  the  truth,  for  he  was  pledged 
to  secrecy,  and  he  did  not  purpose  to  tell  an  un- 
truth. His  only  course  was  to  evade  the  question 
if  he  could. 

*'  What  blamed  fools  they  must  be !     Pon't  they 


MARK  TO  THE  RESCUE  313 

know  that  Lunt  has  been  coming  here  off  and  on 
ever  since  my  father  was  killed;  that  he  has  had 
charge  of  the  case  from  the  beginning?  " 

"  That  is  one  of  the  points  Dick  is  playing  on, 
that  every  man  in  the  village  is  under  surveil- 
lance and  has  been  for  the  past  two  years;  and 
that  now  you  are  trying  to  make  it  appear  your 
workmen  are  all  murderers  and  cutthroats  by  tak- 
ing Lunt  into  your  home  to  protect  you  from  meet- 
ing the  same  fate  as  your  father." 

Robert  looked  aghast.  The  possibility  of  such 
a  construction  being  placed  on  Mr.  Lunt's  pres- 
ence had  never  entered  his  head. 

"  I  can't  understand  this  turn  of  affairs,"  he 
said  presently.  "  It  seems  so  unreasonable. 
Why  does  Stanton  tell  such  ridiculous  stories !  " 

"  Because  it  pleases  him  and  answers  his  pur- 
pose," replied  Mark  slowly.  "  And  by  the  way, 
Robert,  do  you  know  Lunt  is  not  the  only  private 
detective  in  town?  "  he  asked  suddenly. 

"'  Not  the  only  one?  "  And  Robert  looked  at 
him  in  surprise. 

"  Not  the  only  one,"  repeated  Mark,  darting  a 
suspicious  look  into  his  companion's  face. 
"  Somehow  I  have  got  it  into  my  head  that  Dr. 
Craig  is  being  shadowed." 

"  Nonsense,  Mark !  "  Robert  tried  his  best  to 
keep  a  steady  voice,  but  it  trembled  in  spite  of  all 
he  could  do. 

"  No  nonsense  about  it !  Yesterday  afternoon, 
last  night,  and  again  this  morning,  I  saw  a  strange 


314-      THE  SINS  OF  THE  FATHERS 

man  prowling  about  in  the  vicinity  of  the  doctor's 
home;  and  what  strengthens  my  suspicion  is  the 
fact  that  that  very  man  is  now  skulking  among 
the  trees  behind  you." 

Robert  started  and  turned  quickly  in  the  direc- 
tion indicated  only  to  catch  the  shadow  of  a  man 
gliding  behind  a  large  tree  near  the  house.  A 
troubled  look  flitted  across  his  face  as  he  was 
forced  to  acknowledge  the  weight  of  Mark's  suspi- 
cion. 

"  Take  my  advice  and  keep  your  eyes  open, 
and  —  put  the  doctor  on  his  guard."  With  these 
words  of  caution  Mark  left  him  and  proceeded  on 
his  way  to  the  office. 

Robert  retraced  his  steps  to  the  house,  sincerely 
wishing  that  it  were  in  his  power  to  put  the  doctor 
on  his  guard ;  and  at  the  same  time  he  was  puzzled 
and  perplexed  by  Mark's  words.  What  did  he 
know?  Realizing  how  powerless  he  was  to  warn 
the  doctor  without  breaking  his  word  of  honor, 
Robert  resolved  on  one  thing.  He  would  exact  a 
promise  from  Mr.  Lunt  to  make  no  arrest  until  the 
difficulties  at  the  works  should  be  adjusted. 

Accordingly  he  sought  a  private  interview  with 
Mr.  Lunt  immediately  on  reaching  the  house,  and 
laid  the  matter  before  that  gentleman  in  its  most 
aggravating  light.  Mr.  Lunt,  readily  compre- 
hending the  delicate  position  in  which  Robert 
found  himself,  assented  to  the  request.  He  fur- 
ther agreed  to  call  off  the  guard  whom  he  admitted 


MARK  TO  THE  RESCUE  315 

he  had  set  to  dog  the  movements  of  the  doctor, 
if  by  so  doing  it  would  relieve  the  situation. 

"  I  think  it  will,"  replied  Robert  with  avidity. 
"  Besides  I  see  no  reason  for  such  a  guard.  Thus 
far  the  doctor  has  shown  no  signs  of  recognizing 
you  as  a  former  acquaintance;  neither  has  he 
shown  any  suspicion  that  he  is  being  watched  and 
trailed.  He  takes  your  presence  here,  as  all  the 
village  does,  as  in  connection  with  my  father's 
murder.  Personally,  I  am  more  convinced  than 
ever  that  you  are  mistaken  in  your  man." 

"  I  shall  not  dispute  your  privilege  to  hold  to 
your  own  belief  in  a  mistaken  identity,"  he  said 
with  the  same  dogged  manner  he  had  shown  at 
their  previous  discussion  of  the  case.  "  I  too  still 
cling  to  my  first  convictions.  As  for  his  betray- 
ing himself,  I  did  not  expect  it.  He  is  too  well 
schooled  in  self-possession  for  that.  I  have  made 
no  attempt  to  press  the  point  of  recognition  upon 
him,  as  you  have  no  doubt  noticed,  neither  do  I 
intend  to  do  so.  At  the  same  time  I  have  left 
nothing  to  chance.  My  arrangements  are  com- 
plete. The  proper  authorities  will  step  in  and 
make  the  arrest  when  I  give  the  word." 

Robert  looked  his  amazement.  He  had  not  had 
the  faintest  idea  that  things  had  gone  so  far. 
Somehow  he  had  been  laboring  under  the  impres- 
sion that  the  whole  matter  was  to  be  held  in  abey- 
ance until  Mr.  Lunt  had  made  certain  tests  and 
observations  which  would  sustain  his  contention  be- 


316      THE  SINS  OF  THE  FATHERS 

yond  a  reasonable  doubt.  He  could  hardly  believe 
what  he  heard. 

"Then  you  have  already  taken  steps?"  He 
tried  to  speak  calmly. 

"  I  have,"  answered  Mr.  Lunt  coolly. 

The  hot  blood  tingled  through  Robert's  veins  in 
desperation,  and  he  felt  a  tigerish  desire  to  spring 
at  the  man's  throat  and  strangle  him.  He  con- 
trolled his  rising  temper,  however,  and  continued 
to  catechize  him. 

"When  did  you  do  this?" 

"  Yesterday  morning." 

"Before  you  called  on  me?" 

"  Yes." 

"  Then  your  agreement  with  me  was  not  strictly 
on  the  square?  " 

**  Why,  yes,  I  considered  it  so.  You  wanted 
the  arrest  held  up  until  you  could  convince  your- 
self of  the  identity  of  the  man.  I  agreed  to  hold 
up  over  Sunday.  I  have  kept  my  agreement  so 
far,  and  mean  to  keep  it  implicitly.  But  I  did  not 
mean  to  run  any  risks  of  losing  my  man;  and  I 
do  not  intend  to  do  so  now."  And  he  brought 
his  jaws  together  with  a  determined  snap. 

Robert  saw  the  futility  of  argument. 

"When  do  you  expect  the  sheriffs  to  arrive?" 
was  his  next  question. 

"  Within  an  hour  of  my  call." 

"  Then  it  is  still  within  your  power  to  stave  off 
the  arrest  a  few  days  if  you  choose?  " 

"  Yes." 


MARK  TO  THE  RESCUE 

"And  you  will  do  it  to  oblige  me?"  he  asked 
eagerly. 

*'  Yes,  if  you  adhere  to  your  promise  to  give 
him  no  warning." 

Robert  heaved  a  sigh  of  relief,  as  if  a  weight 
had  been  removed  from  his  mind. 

"  I  have  given  you  my  word  and  have  kept  it 
faithfully,  and  will  keep  it  to  the  bitter  end !  "  he 
said  solemnly. 

Having  come  to  this  agreement,  Robert  felt 
more  at  ease  and  rose  to  join  the  other  members 
of  the  household  in  the  dining-room  where  they 
had  assembled  for  lunch.  His  heart  grew  lighter, 
his  face  lost  much  of  its  gravity,  and  he  met  the 
anxious  eyes  of  his  mother  with  the  semblance  of 
a  smile  as  he  took  his  seat  at  the  table.  His  was 
a  sanguine  nature.  No  matter  how  dark  the  pros- 
pects were  at  a  given  time,  he  could  always  see 
the  light  ahead.  The  truce  which  he  had  just  con- 
cluded with  Mr.  Lunt  filled  him  with  new  hope. 
Somehow,  he  thought,  the  doctor  would  be  able  to 
prove  a  mistaken  identity  without  the  humiliation 
of  being  placed  under  arrest.  He  could  never 
forget  Frank  Bent,  and  the  horror  of  his  trials. 

The  rest  of  the  day  passed  with  no  further  in- 
cidents to  mar  the  ordinary  quiet  of  a  Coleville 
Sabbath.  None  of  the  family  appeared  at  church 
that  day.  This  left  the  Rev.  Mr.  Hall  free  to 
preach  his  sermons  laudatory  of  the  character  of 
Robert  Cole  and  the  wonderful  work  he  had  ac- 
complished for  the  good  of  the  village  since  his 


318      THE  SINS  OF  THE  FATHERS 

father's  death,  and  to  counsel  moderation  and  a 
strict  compliance  with  law  and  order  till  the  pres- 
ent misunderstanding  between  employer  and  em- 
ployee should  be  brought  to  an  end. 


CHAPTER  XX 

ROBERT  RECEIVES  A  CALL  FROM  NELL 
STANTON 

As  Mark  had  predicted,  the  test  came  on  Mon- 
day morning.  Long  before  the  starting  hour  the 
workmen  began  to  gather  in  the  square,  and  while 
waiting  for  the  gates  to  open,  passed  their  time 
in  singing,  laughing,  and  badgering  each  other, 
making  a  noisy  display  of  bravado  until  Dick 
Stanton  appeared.  He  came  swaggering  round 
the  corner  just  as  the  gates  were  thrown  open. 
Had  he  timed  his  coming,  the  effect  could  not  have 
been  more  to  his  purpose.  There  was  a  break  in 
the  crowd,  a  rush  towards  him,  and  he  was  in- 
stantly caught  up  and  carried  bodily  through  the 
crowd  to  the  bench  in  the  center  of  the  green. 
This  bench  had  been  selected  as  Dick's  rostrum 
because  it  was  more  elevated  than  any  of  the  other 
benches ;  and  when  standing  on  it,  stretched  to  his 
full  height,  it  brought  his  diminutive,  misshapen 
body  on  a  level  with  the  heads  of  the  crowd,  while 
his  big  head  towered  above. 

When  he  found  his  legs  under  him  on  the  bench, 
he  steadied  himself  as  best  he  could,  took  off  his 

hat,  and  with  a  hideous  leer  on  his  swollen  face, 

319 


320      THE  SINS  OF  THE  FATHERS 

called  for  three  cheers  for  liberty.  They  were 
given  with  a  will;  and  then  as  on  Saturday,  he 
began  to  speak  and  for  over -an  hour  held  his  audi- 
ence as  if  spellbound. 

As  we  have  seen,  the  gates  had  been  opened  at 
the  regular  hour ;  but  only  a  small  number  of  those 
assembled  in  the  square  had  the  moral  courage  to 
venture  in ;  and  those  who  did  had  to  run  a  fire 
of  hoots,  howls,  and  yells  of  derision,  embellished 
with  salvos  of  blasphemous  abuse. 

Robert  and  Mark  were  in  the  office  watching  the 
demonstration  with  sickening  yet  determined 
hearts.  Now  that  the  crucial  test  had  come, 
Mark  stood  ready  to  back  Robert  up  with  all  the 
strength  of  his  loyal  nature.  From  the  first  Mark 
felt  that  Robert  would  play  a  losing  game.  But 
now  the  battle  royal  was  on,  he  patted  him  on  the 
back  and  cried  encouragingly: 

"  Don't  flinch  now !  " 

So  few  had  entered  the  works  that  by  eight 
o'clock  Robert  saw  the  futility  of  attempting  to 
run  the  machinery  longer,  and  ordered  the  plant 
closed  till  noon,  promising  those  who  had  reported 
for  work  full  wages  for  whatever  time  they  might 
be  idle. 

The  closing  of  the  plant  was  hailed  with  wild 
shouts  of  triumph  by  the  waiting  crowd  in  the 
square.  Then,  after  giving  full  vent  to  their  feel- 
ings in  various  ways,  the  men  took  up  a  line  of 
march  and  headed  for  Stanton's  hotel,  followed  by 
the  plaudits  of  their  women  folks,  who  little  under- 


ROBERT  RECEIVES  A  CALL        321 

stood  what  was  involved  in  the  main  issue  of  the 
struggle,  and  who  cared  less  so  long  as  their  men 
stood  shoulder  to  shoulder  for  the  principle  of  the 
thing,  whatever  it  was.  And  this  seems  to  be  the 
crowning  weakness  of  woman  kind,  to  stand  by  their 
men  in  their  struggles  for  principles,  whether  those 
principles  be  right  or  wrong. 

The  shouts  of  the  rabble  had  hardly  died  away 
in  the  distance  when  the  office  door  opened  and 
Nell  Stanton,  pale  and  wild-eyed,  stepped  in  and 
approached  the  railing  behind  which  Mark  had 
retired  to  his  customary  station  as  soon  as  the 
men  had  left  the  square.  Robert  was  in  his  pri- 
vate office,  the  door  of  which  stood  ajar.  He  was 
pacing  restlessly  to  and  fro,  thinking  of  the  pos- 
sible concessions  he  might  make  to  the  men  with- 
out surrendering  the  main  point  of  difference, 
which  was  the  reinstatement  of  Dick  Stanton. 

When  Mark  raised  his  eyes  and  beheld  Nell 
standing  before  him,  he  almost  fell  from  his  seat 
with  fright  and  amazement.  Slipping  down  from 
his  seat  and  gliding  round  to  where  she  stood,  he 
was  obliged  to  grasp  the  rail  for  support. 

"  Well,  what  now?  "  he  asked  under  his  breath. 

"  I  want  to  see  Robert  Cole,"  she  answered, 
pitching  her  voice  loud  enough  to  be  heard  in  the 
office  beyond. 

"  Impossible !  "  replied  Mark,  shaking  his  head 
disapprovingly.  "  Mr.  Cole  is  too  busy  to  be  dis- 
turbed at  present.  If  you  have  any  message,  you 
may  leave  it  with  me  and  I  will  see  that  he  gets 


THE  SINS  OF  THE  FATHERS 

it  when  he  is  at  leisure."  Mark  had  recovered  his 
self-possession  and  now  spoke  with  his  wonted  busi- 
ness air. 

Looking  past  him  through  the  open  door,  Nell 
saw  Robert  pacing  the  floor  of  the  inner  office, 
and  was  not  to  be  bluffed  by  Mark.  She  was  fully 
aware  when  she  came  that  Mark  would  attempt  to 
prevent  her  from  seeing  Robert,  and  she  had  mar- 
shaled her  wits  to  outgeneral  him.  She  was  quick 
to  see  her  advantage  in  the  open  door,  and  as 
quick  to  make  up  her  mind  to  profit  by  it.  An 
amused  smile  wreathed  her  white  lips  as  she  lis- 
tened to  his  suave  words  and  watched  his  facial 
contortions  as  he  motioned  her  to  be  gone. 
Throwing  her  head  back,  she  laughed  derisively  in 
his  face,  and  pointing  to  the  open  door,  said  in  a 
voice  that  she  knew  would  penetrate  to  the  ears 
of  Robert, 

"  Come,  Mark,  your  excuse  is  rather  a  lame  one, 
seeing  that  Mr.  Cole  appears  to  be  very  much  at 
leisure  this  morning.  As  my  business  with  Mr. 
Cole  is  of  the  utmost  importance,  I  insist  on  being 
admitted  to  his  presence." 

"  I  tell  you  it  is  impossible !  "  reiterated  Mark, 
waving  her  back. 

**  Nothing  is  impossible  to  a  determined  woman, 
Mark,"  she  replied  with  a  defiant  toss  of  her  head. 
"  I  have  come  to  talk  with  Robert  Cole  and  neither 
you  nor  any  other  man  on  earth  shall  prevent 
me ! "  Then  quick  as  a  flash,  she  laid  her  hand 


ROBERT  RECEIVES  A  CALL        323 

on  the  gate  leading  into  the  enclosure,  pushed  it 
open,  and  slipped  behind  the  railing  ere  Mark 
could  move. 

The  space  behind  the  rail  was  narrow,  barely 
wide  enough  for  two  persons  to  pass  under  the 
ordinary  courtesies  of  everyday  life.  But  Mark 
Gibson  never  dealt  in  amities  when  the  welfare  of 
Cole  and  Company  was  at  stake.  It  was  at  stake 
now;  and  his  duty  was,  at  all  hazards,  to  prevent 
this  meeting.  So  that  when  she  attempted  to  pass 
through,  she  found  her  progress  blocked  by  Mark, 
who  faced  her  squarely  in  the  passage.  Nothing 
daunted,  she  endeavored  to  brush  past  him.  This 
riled  him  beyond  forbearance,  and  taking  her  by 
the  shoulders,  he  began  to  force  her  back  when 
Robert  rushed  from  his  office  to  her  rescue. 
Catching  Mark  by  the  collar,  Robert  drew  him  out 
of  the  passageway,  and  whirled  him  aside,  ex- 
claiming : 

"  In  the  name  of  heaven,  Mark,  what  does  this 
mean  ?  " 

"  It  means  that  this  — "  began  Mark,  trembling 
with  suppressed  rage. 

"  Let  me  answer  the  question,"  broke  in  Nell 
calmly,  stepping  out  of  the  narrow  pasageway 
and  nearer  the  open  door  of  Robert's  private 
room.  "  Mark  is  altogether  too  much  excited  to 
think  clearly  and  might,  unconsciously,  state  that 
which  would  not  be  strictly  true."  Her  tone  was 
sarcastic;  and  her  eyes  flashed  a  scornful  look  on 


324      THE  SINS  OF  THE  FATHERS 

Mark.  After  a  moment's  pause  she  went  on :  "I 
have  come  to  talk  over  the  matter  of  your  rein- 
stating Dick  — 

"  I  can  not  talk  to  you  on  that  subject,  madam," 
interrupted  Robert  gently  but  firmly,  "  so  there  is 
no  need  of  wasting  any  more  time." 

"  That  is  just  what  I  tried  to  explain  to  her, 
but  she  wouldn't  listen,"  explained  Mark,  stepping 
into  the  breach  as  he  saw  Robert  was  inclined  to 
cut  the  interview  short.  Moreover,  he  wanted  to 
redeem  himself  in  Robert's  eyes  for  his  apparent 
rough  treatment  of  the  woman. 

But  Nell  was  not  to  be  disposed  of  so  easily. 
Darting  past  the  men  before  either  of  them  could 
put  out  a  hand  to  stop  her,  she  glided  into  the 
private  office  like  a  shadow.  Robert  saw  now  that 
his  better  policy  would  be  to  temporize  with  her, 
so  waving  Mark  aside,  he  followed  her  in. 

Mark's  face  was  a  study  as  he  wheeled  about, 
mounted  his  seat,  and  took  up  his  quill.  It  looked 
as  if  all  the  furies  were  at  war  in  his  soul.  Yet 
he  was  outwardly  calm.  He  made  no  attempt  to 
work,  however.  He  simply  sat  and  gazed  va- 
cantly over  the  desk  rail  and  out  through  the 
window  beyond.  That  his  thoughts  were  en- 
grossed by  what  was  to  happen  in  the  next  room 
was  apparent;  for  his  head  was  perked  slightly 
on  one  side  as  if  waiting  for  the  voice  that  must 
come  to  his  ears.  The  door  between  stood  wide 
open,  so  that  he  could  not  fail  to  catch  every  word 
spoken.  It  seemed  to  him  an  age  ere  Robert's 


ROBERT  RECEIVES  A  CALL   325 

voice  floated  out  to  him.  He  bent  his  head  to 
listen. 

"  Be  seated,  madam,"  said  Robert  courteously, 
pointing  to  a  chair  in  front  of  the  desk.  Then 
passing  round  and  throwing  himself  into  his  great 
revolving  seat,  he  faced  her  and  went  on  in  a  calm, 
firm  voice :  "  Now  I  will  listen  to  what  you  have 
to  say;  but  I  must  tell  you  to  begin  with,  that  I 
shall  not  reinstate  your  brother." 

"  My  son,  if  you  please,"  she  corrected,  fixing 
her  eyes  full  on  his  face  as  if  to  note  the  effect 
of  her  words. 

"Your  son?"  he  half  questioned,  meeting  her 
gaze  with  a  look  of  surprise  that  showed  how  un- 
prepared he  was  for  such  a  declaration. 

"  Yes,  my  son,"  she  reiterated  calmly,  drop- 
ping her  eyes  before  his  penetrating  gaze. 

"  I  beg  your  pardon,  but  I  was  not  aware  that 
you  had  ever  been  married,"  he  half  apologized, 
moving  uneasily  in  his  chair  as  if  he  wished  the 
interview  were  at  an  end. 

"  I  have  not  been,"  she  acknowledged  slowly, 
while  the  faintest  tinge  of  color  crept  into  her 
cheeks  and  lips  and  relieved  her  face  of  its  deathly 
appearance.  "  Nevertheless,"  she  went  on  after 
a  moment's  pause,  "  he  is  my  son ;  though  for  rea- 
sons best  known  to  myself  and  one  or  two  others 
I  have  never  openly  admitted  it.  The  time  has 
now  come,  however,  when  circumstances  compel 
me  to  reveal  his  parentage,  even  though  I  expose 
the  skeleton  in  the  family  closet," 


326      THE  SINS  OF  THE  FATHERS 

"  Pardon  me,  Miss  Stanton,"  he  interrupted  po- 
litely, rising  as  if  to  terminate  the  talk ;  "  but  as 
I  am  not  concerned  in  your  family  affairs,  I  pre- 
fer not  to  listen  to  your  recital  of  household 
secrets." 

"  But  you  are  concerned  in  my  family  secrets ; 
that  is  why  I  have  come  to  you;  and  that  is  why 
you  must  listen  to  me."  And  she  met  his  look  of 
impatience  with  an  unflinching  stare. 

"Must?"  he  questioned  softly,  elevating  his 
brows  and  looking  down  on  her  from  across  the 
desk.  An  amused  smile  chased  away  the  bored 
look  of  a  moment  before.  Her  coolness  and  de- 
termination, together  with  her  apparent  confi- 
dence in  herself,  began  to  interest  him  in  spite  of 
his  desire  to  get  rid  of  her.  And  besides,  he  could 
not  help  noticing  that  despite  her  forty  odd  years 
she  was  still  a  very  handsome  woman,  and  much 
superior  in  speech  to  any  of  the  women  of  the 
village.  "  Must  is  a  very  strong  word,"  he  said 
after  an  interval  of  silence.  "  Besides,  I  fail  to 
see  where  your  family  secrets  can  have  any  bear- 
ing on  the  question  at  issue  one  way  or  an- 
other." 

"  Had  you  not  better  reserve  your  decision  until 
after  you  have  heard  my  story?"  she  asked 
quietly.  "  Perhaps  I  may  convince  you  to  the 
contrary."  And  with  a  peremptory  motion  of 
her  shapely  white  hand,  and  a  slight  bend  of  her 
stately  head,  she  waved  him  back  into  his  seat. 
"  Pray  sit  down !  You  will  find  it  less  tedious  to 


ROBERT  RECEIVES  A  CALL 

listen  to  a  long  story  if  you  try  to  make  yourself 
comfortable." 

"  But  I  have  no  time  to  listen  to  a  long  story, 
madam,"  he  protested  mildly  as  he  sank  back  into 
his  chair.  There  was  something  in  the  uncanny 
gleam  of  her  large  dark  eyes  which  compelled  him 
to  obey. 

"  Nevertheless  you  will  listen  to  me,"  she  said  in 
a  soft  tone. 

"  Then  you  must  be  brief,"  he  insisted. 

"  Brevity  in  my  case  would  mean  bluntness." 
She  laughed  ironically.  "  Still,  if  it  be  your 
choice,  you  can  have  it."  Then  she  seemed  to 
hesitate.  Her  eyes  wandered  through  the  window 
and  ranged  over  the  deserted  yard,  while  a  serious, 
half  painful  expression  settled  on  her  face.  Ap- 
parently she  had  forgotten  her  surroundings. 

"  Well,  I  am  waiting,"  said  Robert,  breaking 
the  silence  impatiently. 

She  started  and  brought  her  eyes  back  to  his 
face. 

"  I  beg  your  pardon,  Mr.  Cole,"  she  apolo- 
gized in  a  contrite  tone.  *'  The  fact  is,  I  hardly 
know  how  to  begin.  I  thought  I  could  tell  you 
straight  off;  but  I  can't.  I  have  always  liked 
you,  for  you  have  been  good  to  Dick  in  many 
ways.  You  see,  I  don't  want  to  hurt  your  feel- 
ings ;  and  I  don't  want  to  kill  your  respect  and 
love  for  the  dead.  But  I  must  save  Dick !  If  you 
will  only  reinstate  him,  and  promise  to  keep  him 
at  work  as  long  as  he  lives,  I  will  go  away  and 


328      THE  SINS  OF  THE  FATHERS 

never  trouble  you  again !  You  can  see  I  have  not 
long  to  live, —  the  doctor  says  so ;  and  I  want  to 
know  that  someone  will  take  an  interest  in  Dick 
when  I  am  gone.  You  will  reinstate  him  ?  "  she 
pleaded,  stretching  her  long,  emaciated  hands  ap- 
pealingly  towards  him,  while  the  tears  rolled  over 
the  hectic  spots  on  her  hollow  cheeks. 

"  I  can  not,  and  will  not,  reinstate  Dick,"  he 
answered  firmly,  though  he  pitied  her  from  the 
depths  of  his  heart. 

"  But  I  tell  you,  you  must ! "  There  was  a 
determined  ring  in  her  voice  and  a  steely  glint  in 
her  eyes. 

"  Must?  "  he  repeated  with  a  touch  of  irrita- 
tion in  his  voice. 

Their  eyes  met  in  a  steady  stare  as  if  each 
were  measuring  the  other's  power  of  resistance. 
Though  by  nature  deferential  to  women,  and  slow 
to  anger,  Robert  began  to  feel  a  sort  of  mental 
friction  under  the  bold,  imperious  light  in  her  dark 
eyes,  which  he  could  not  hide.  On  the  other  hand 
she  seemed  to  regain  her  composure  and  rather  to 
enjoy  his  rising  irritation.  She  waited  for  him  to 
speak. 

At  length  he  asked  slowly : 

"Why  must  I?" 

"  Because  he  is  my  son,"  she  replied  in  faltering 
tones,  "  and  because  — "  She  paused. 

"And  because  —  what?"  he  asked  sharply. 
His  patience  was  about  exhausted,  for  he  began  to 
feel  that  she  was  playing  with  him. 


ROBERT  RECEIVES  A  CALL        329 

She  leaned  slightly  forward;  her  face  turned  a 
shade  paler ;  and  her  voice  sounded  clear  as  clank- 
ing steel  when  she  answered, 

"  Because  he  is  your  father's  son  and  your 
brother !  " 

"  You  lie !  "  he  cried,  springing  to  his  feet  with 
clenched  fists  and  blazing  eyes. 

"  It  is  true !  "  she  declared,  rising  and  facing 
him  like  a  suddenly  enraged  tigress  defending  her 
young.  "  Your  father  deceived  me  by  going 
through  a  mock  marriage  with  me  when  I  was  a 
girl  of  only  sixteen.  For  two  years  I  thought  I 
was  his  wife  and  was  happy.  Six  months  after 
Dick  was  born  he  married  your  mother,  then  I 
learned  what  I  was.  I  upbraided  him  for  his 
treachery ;  and  when  I  threatened  to  come  to  Cole- 
ville  and  expose  him,  he  struck  me  down  with  Dick 
in  my  arms.  The  blow  and  my  trouble  brought  on 
brain  fever  and  I  was  at  death's  door  for  weeks. 
The  child  was  injured  by  the  fall  and  made  a  crip- 
ple for  life.  It  made  of  him  what  you  see  him 
to-day.  Your  father  supported  us  during  his  life 
on  condition  that  I  would  hold  my  tongue  and 
never  set  foot  in  Coleville  again.  I  obeyed  his 
mandates  until  the  day  of  my  mother's  death, 
which  occurred  the  same  day  your  father  was  shot. 
The  news  of  his  death  brought  on  a  shock  from 
which  she  died.  She  was  the  only  one,  except 
Mark  Gibson,  who  knew  that  Dick  Cole  was  the 
father  of  my  child.  Your  father  was  to  have 
made  provisions  for  us,  for  Dick  and  me,  before 


330      THE  SINS  OF  THE  FATHERS 

his  death;  but  even  there  he  failed  to  keep  his 
promise.  Now  do  you  understand  why  I  say  you 
must  reinstate  him?  He  is  your  father's  son;  and 
if  justice  were  meted  out,  we,  Dick  and  I,  would 
not  be  outcasts  to-day.  For  in  the  sight  of  God 
I  am  Richard  Cole's  lawful  widow.  Your  mother 
bears  his  name  and  may  weep  for  him  in  public, 
while  I,  who  loved  him  with  all  my  young  heart 
and  soul,  must  hide  my  head  in  shame.  No,  I 
have  no  right  to  weep  for  him  in  public ;  but  I  can 
curse  him  in  my  heart;  and  will  as  long  as  life 
remains !  " 

She  paused  for  breath  and  stood  panting  before 
him,  waiting  for  him  to  speak.  Swayed  by  the 
intensity  of  her  passion,  her  voice  had  increased  in 
pitch  and  vehemence;  and  her  sentences  had  come 
in  short,  disjointed  gasps. 

He  stood  just  where  he  had  risen ;  not  a  muscle 
of  his  face  changed,  though  he  grew  ghastly  pale 
during  the  recital  of  his  father's  infamy  and  of 
her  wrongs.  He  gazed  at  her  in  a  sort  of  numb 
amazement  as  she  proceeded.  Even  when  she 
ceased  to  speak,  he  simply  stood  and  stared  at  her. 
She  waited  several  seconds ;  but  he  did  not  speak ; 
he  did  not  move.  Whether  the  unspeakable  suf- 
fering depicted  in  his  eyes  appealed  to  the  wom- 
anly instincts  of  her  soul  is  not  known ;  but  a  shade 
of  pity  swept  across  her  face  and  her  voice  was 
tremulously  tender  when  she  spoke  again: 

"  God  knows  I  did  not  want  to  take  this  step. 
I  did  not  wish  to  pain  you.  You  are  not  to  blame 


ROBERT  RECEIVES  A  CALL        331 

for  your  father's  sins  any  more  than  Dick  is. 
But  what  else  could  I  do?  I  must  save  Dick! 
And  this  was  my  only  recourse.  I  don't  ask  you 
to  acknowledge  him  as  your  brother.  I  don't  ask 
you  to  keep  him.  I  only  ask  you  to  help  him;  to 
give  him  his  work  back.  When  he  is  not  working, 
he  is  drunk  all  the  time;  and  while  the  liquor  is 
in  him  he  is  more  like  a  wild  animal  than  a  human 
being.  It  is  impossible  to  control  him  at  such 
times,  for  he  has  inherited  his  father's  temper. 
You  must  help  Dick !  " 

"  Madam,  I  don't  believe  a  word  of  all  this 
trash!"  broke  in  Robert,  suddenly  coming  to  his 
senses  and  bringing  his  clenched  fist  down  on  the 
desk  with  a  tremendous  bang.  "  It  is  a  calumny 
on  the  dead!  and  I  don't  want  to  hear  another 
word!" 

"  Of  course  you  don't !  "  she  said  sneeringly, 
again  taking  a  defensive  attitude.  This  time, 
however,  there  was  no  anger  in  her  voice.  Her 
words  were  cold  and  calculating.  "  Your  old  dad 
was  such  a  paragon  of  a  father  up  on  the  hill 
yonder  that  it  would  be  impossible  to  convince  you 
of  his  villainy  did  I  not  happen  to  have  tangible 
proof.  As  luck  would  have  it,  I  have  my  marriage 
certificate.  True,  it  is  only  a  bogus  one ;  but  it 
served  your  father's  purpose  in  the  beginning, 
and  it  will  serve  mine  in  the  end.  Besides,  I  have 
a  peck  of  the  most  delicious  love  letters  ever  writ- 
ten by  any  man  to  his  lady  love  and  later  to  his 
girl  wife.  Your  father  offered  me  fifty  thousand 


332      THE  SINS  OF  THE  FATHERS 

dollars  for  them  at  one  time ;  but  I  refused  to  sell. 
Oh,  you  needn't  believe  me,"  she  continued  taunt- 
ingly as  she  noted  the  look  of  incredulity  that  set- 
tled on  his  face.  "  I  won't  ask  you  to  believe  me. 
Ask  Mark  Gibson;  he  was  your  father's  confiden- 
tial go-between  during  all  those  years  that  your 
father  was  building  up  his  reputation  as  a  model 
husband,  father,  and  all-round  goody-goody  man 
in  Coleville  and  vicinity.  Mark  Gibson ! "  she 
called,  turning  to  the  door. 

Her  call  was  unnecessary,  for  Mark  already 
stood  in  the  doorway.  From  his  position  at  the 
desk  he  had  heard  every  word  that  had  passed  be- 
tween them.  He  had  waited  to  hear  his  own  name 
spoken.  He  knew  it  would  come  and  that  he  must 
be  ready  to  answer.  When  it  came,  he  slid  quietly 
down  from  his  stool,  glided  to  the  open  door,  where 
his  tall,  thin  form  towered  above  her  when  she 
turned  to  accost  him. 

"  Is  all  this  true?  "  demanded  Robert  in  choking 
tones,  looking  appealingly  into  Mark's  sallow, 
mask-like  face. 

"  Yes !  "  came  in  an  aspirated  voice.  It  was  all 
he  could  say,  for  his  lips  and  throat  were  parched 
and  dry.  His  eyes  dropped  before  the  look  of 
loathing  that  suddenly  swept  across  Robert's  pale 
face,  and  he  stood  like  a  culprit  awaiting  his  doom. 

For  a  moment  dead  silence  reigned  in  the  room ; 
then  Robert  tottered  and  sank  limply  back  into  his 
chair,  and  folding  his  arms  on  his  desk  and  drop- 
ping his  head  on  them,  he  burst  into  tears. 


ROBERT  RECEIVES  A  CALL 

Mark  waited  only  a  second  ere  he  found  his 
voice.  Turning  to  Nell,  he  said  scathingly: 

"  I  hope  you  are  satisfied  now,  now  that  you 
have  blasted  another  life !  "  And  wheeling  about 
ere  she  could  answer,  he  strode  across  the  narrow 
space,  through  the  gate,  and  took  his  stand  at  the 
window  looking  out  on  the  green. 

Nell  followed  slowly.  She  saw  her  work  was 
done,  that  she  must  leave  the  rest  in  the  hands  of 
Mark  Gibson  as  she  had  done  on  many  another 
occasion.  She  knew  the  loyalty  of  Mark  Gibson 
to  his  employer;  and  she  knew  also  that  his  being 
loyal  to  one  did  not  hinder  his  being  just  to  an- 
other. She  paused  as  she  neared  the  outer  door 
and  addressed  Mark,  whose  back  was  towards 
her. 

"  Mark,  if  you  will  induce  him  to  reinstate  Dick, 
give  him  something  to  do  so  that  he  can  support 
himself  after  I  am  gone,  my  secret  shall  be  buried 
with  me,  and  only  we  three  shall  ever  be  the  wiser. 
I  promise  you  this  !  " 

He  did  not  answer,  neither  did  he  give  any  sign 
that  he  had  even  heard  her.  The  sobs  from  the 
inner  room  had  ceased  and  an  oppressive  silence 
hung  upon  the  air.  After  waiting  a  moment  and 
receiving  no  answer,  she  opened  the  door  softly 
and  with  slow  and  languid  steps  passed  out. 

As  soon  as  she  had  gone,  Mark  glided  to  the 
door  and  turned  the  key,  and  then  retraced  his 
steps  to  the  inner  office  where  Robert  still  sat  with 
bowed  head.  Approaching  him  and  laying  his 


334.      THE  SINS  OF  THE  FATHERS 

hand  kindly  on  his  shoulder,  Mark  said  encour- 
agingly* 

"  Come,  Robert,  be  a  man !  " 

Robert  sprang  to  his  feet  as  though  stung  by 
an  asp,  and  facing  his  lifelong  friend  and  adviser, 
he  blazed  forth: 

"  And  you  knew  all  this  and  didn't  tell  me ! 
You,  whom  I  have  trusted,  and  loved  next  to  my 
father!  O  Mark,  Mark,  knowing  this  how  can  I 
ever  look  the  world  in  the  face  again!  And  my 
father,  whom  I  considered  the  soul  of  honor;  how 
could  he  stoop  to  such  a  dishonorable  course ! " 
Running  his  fingers  through  his  hair,  he  clasped 
his  hands  across  his  head  and  began  pacing  the 
floor  like  one  in  distraction. 

Mark  stood  helplessly  by.  He  could  find  no 
words  that  would  either  soothe  or  appease  such  a 
state  of  mind  as  Robert  was  laboring  under.  Be- 
sides, he  felt  his  own  humiliated  position  too  keenly 
to  attempt  any  palliation  of  the  offence. 

"  And  that  drunken  sot !  How  can  I  ever  ac- 
knowledge him  as  of  my  blood !  "  he  broke  forth 
again  in  tones  of  loathing. 

"  You  need  not  acknowledge  him,"  ventured 
Mark.  "  You  have  only  to  reinstate  him,  pay  him 
his  wages,  and  everything  will  go  on  as  before. 
She  has  promised  this,  and  I  know  she  will  keep 
her  word." 

"  No,  Mark,  you  are  mistaken !  Things  can 
never  go  on  as  before !  If  this  story  is  true  — 
and  I  have  every  reason  to  believe  it  is,  for  I  have 


ROBERT  RECEIVES  A  CALL        335 

seen  my  father's  likeness  in  Dick's  face  more  than 
once,  and  have  wondered  at  it  —  if  it  is  true,  I 
must  try  and  undo  some  of  the  wrong  my  father 
has  done  to  this  woman.  I  recall  a  scene  which 
took  place  between  you  and  her  at  my  father's 
casket  on  the  day  of  the  funeral.  I  meant  to  ask 
you  about  it  at  the  time,  but  it  slipped  my  mind. 
I  understand  it  now." 

He  grew  calmer.  After  taking  one  or  two  more 
turns  across  the  room,  he  threw  himself  into  his 
chair;  and  motioning  Mark  to  the  seat  Nell  had 
occupied  but  a  little  while  before,  he  said, 

"  I  want  you  to  tell  me  the  whole  story.  Sit 
down  there  and  let  me  have  the  truth,  no  matter 
how  hard  it  hits.  Then  I  can  decide  my  proper 
course  of  action." 

Mark  dropped  into  the  chair  and  began  in  a 
choking  voice.  It  was  evident  he  spoke  with  re- 
luctance, for  he  hemmed  and  hawed  and  moved 
uneasily  in  his  seat  several  times  before  he  really 
found  himself,  as  though  ashamed  of  the  part  he 
himself  had  played  in  the  affair. 

"  Nell  told  you  the  vital  parts  of  her  story,  and 
there  is  so  little  more  to  tell  that  I  hardly  know 
where  to  begin.  Perhaps  if  I  tell  you  that  Nell 
Stanton  at  the  age  of  sixteen  was  the  prettiest  and 
the  daintiest  bit  of  humanity  in  the  village,  you 
may  understand  something  of  your  father's  infatu- 
ation for  her.  The  young  men  fairly  tumbled  over 
themselves  to  get  a  smile  from  her;  but  she  turned 
her  nose  up  at  them  all.  Your  father  was  over 


forty  years  of  age  at  the  time.  He  had  been  dis- 
appointed in  an  early  love  affair,  of  which  you 
got  an  inkling  at  the  trial  of  Frank  Bent ;  and  for 
years  he  had  not  looked  at  a  girl.  He  was  rated 
as  a  confirmed  old  bachelor,  who  thought  of  noth- 
ing but  his  business.  Then  all  at  once  he  took  a 
fancy  to  Nellie  Stanton,  whom  he  met  at  church 
and  at  Sunday  School.  He  became  infatuated 
with  the  girl,  and  she  with  him.  But  he  was  so 
much  older  than  she  that  he  hesitated  to  pay  her 
court;  and  his  former  experience  in  love  making 
filled  him  with  dread  lest  the  villagers  should  laugh 
at  him  and  guy  him.  But  his  passion  led  him  on ; 
and  after  several  months  of  clandestine  wooing, 
he  made  it  up  with  Nell  to  go  to  Boston  and  get 
married  on  the  sly.  The  marriage,  however,  was 
to  be  kept  secret  until  your  father  got  ready  to 
announce  it.  All  of  a  sudden,  Nell  left  the  village 
and  the  report  was  circulated  that  she  had  gone  to 
Boston  as  governess  in  some  wealthy  family. 
That  was  all  the  villagers  knew. 

"  The  marriage  took  place  in  good  faith.  Nell 
was  set  up  in  a  home  of  her  own,  and  your  father 
spent  most  of  his  week  ends  with  her  for  nearly 
two  years ;  then  his  passion  began  to  cool.  About 
this  time  he  met  your  mother  and  saw  wherein  he 
had  made  a  mistake  in  marrying  Nell,  who  had 
nothing  to  attract  him  but  a  pretty  face  and 
figure.  Then  he  suddenly  discovered  that  no  mar- 
riage had  taken  place  between  him  and  Nell;  that 
the  man  who  performed  the  ceremony  was  only  a 


ROBERT  RECEIVES  A  CALL        337 

clerk  in  the  office  of  the  justice  with  whom  your 
father  had  arranged  for  the  marriage,  and  who 
had  played  the  part  of  justice  as  a  sort  of  lark. 
Your  father  either  didn't  have  the  courage  to  tell 
Nell,  or  didn't  want  to  break  with  her  right  away, 
so  he  continued  his  relations  with  her  and  did  not 
tell  her  of  the  bogus  marriage  until  after  he  mar- 
ried your  mother.  Then  his  troubles  began,  and 
I  was  let  into  the  secret  and  made  the  messenger 
between  them. 

"  Dick  was  about  a  year  old  at  the  time,  as 
healthy  a  little  fellow  as  ever  lived.  Nell  was 
pretty  hard  to  manage,  for  she  was  a  good  girl  and 
felt  her  disgrace  keenly.  She  threatened  to  come 
to  the  village  with  her  child  and  expose  your  fa- 
ther's perfidy.  She  insisted  that  he  had  duped 
her;  that  he  knew  the  marriage  was  bogus  from 
the  first.  She  had  her  certificate  of  marriage  and 
also  many  letters  in  which  he  had  addressed  her  as 
wife,  and  she  held  them  as  a  lash  over  his  head. 
She  would  not  part  with  them  for  any  price. 
Your  father  finally  decided  to  visit  her  himself  and 
force  her  to  give  them  up  to  him.  Hot  words 
passed  between  them  and  she  sprang  at  him.  He 
lost  his  temper  and  struck  her  down  with  the  child 
in  her  arms  and  left  her.  The  next  day  he  sent 
me  up  and  I  found  Nell  and  the  child  just  where 
he  had  struck  them  down.  I  had  them  removed  to 
the  hospital  where  they  were  taken  care  of;  but 
it  was  a  long  time  ere  they  recovered ;  but  for  all 
her  suffering  she  never  divulged  her  secret  until 


338      THE  SINS  OF  THE  FATHERS 

to-day.  When  the  child  was  well  enough  to  leave 
the  hospital,  old  Mrs.  Stanton  brought  him  home. 
Of  course  his  coming  created  gossip  about  Nell, 
but  your  father's  name  was  never  mentioned.  Old 
Mrs.  Stanton  had  her  suspicions  of  your  father 
when  Nell  went  away,  but  she  could  never  get  at 
the  facts  in  the  case.  Dick  was  reared  as  her  own 
child;  and  to  this  day  Dick  thinks  Nell  is  his 
sister. 

"  Your  father  made  Nell  a  monthly  allowance 
up  to  the  time  of  his  death.  Out  of  this  allowance 
she  kept  herself  and  the  family,  after  a  fashion. 
Since  your  father's  death  I  have  helped  her  several 
times,  because  she  is  not  strong,  for  she  never  fully 
recovered  from  that  blow.  Besides,  my  sympathy 
has  been  with  her  from  the  first.  That  is  all ;  she 
has  told  you  the  rest." 

"  My  God,  Mark !  why  did  you  not  tell  me  this 
before?  "  cried  Robert  from  the  depth  of  his  tor- 
tured soul. 

"How  could  I?     I  was  pledged  to  secrecy." 

"  What  is  to  be  done  ?  "  asked  Robert,  as  though 
groping  for  light. 

"  Simply  give  way  to  the  demands  of  the  men ; 
reinstate  Dick,  and  let  matters  go  on  as  before," 
was  Mark's  sagacious  advice. 

"  And  if  I  refuse?  " 

"  In  that  case  there  is  no  telling  to  what  lengths 
Nell  Stanton  may  go.  She  is  ill  and  desperate. 
She  might  even  tell  Dick ;  then  there  would  be  the 
devil  to  pay." 


ROBERT  RECEIVES  A  CALL        339 

"And  what  of  it?" 

"What  of  it?"  repeated  Mark,  staggered  at 
Robert's  coolness. 

"  Yes,  what  of  it  ?  "  again  questioned  Robert 
doggedly.  "  Sooner  or  later  it  is  bound  to  come 
out.  Why  not  now  as  well  as  at  any  other  time? 
If  I  must  bear  the  sins  of  my  father,  would  it  not 
be  better  to  bear  them  openly  than  to  submit  to 
the  tyranny  of  a  secret  extortion  ?  " 

"But  your  mother  and  Bell?  Have  you 
thought  of  them?" 

Robert's  face  fell  and  his  eyes  dropped  under 
the  stinging  rebuke  of  Mark's  voice.  After  a  mo- 
ment's silence  he  raised  his  head  with  a  startled  air 
and  leaning  forward  asked, 

"  Do  you  suppose  this  woman  had  anything  to 
do  with  my  father's  death  ?  " 

"  No.  So  far  as  I  can  judge,  she  could  have 
had  nothing  to  do  with  it.  In  fact,  I  have  almost 
come  to  the  conclusion  that  your  father's  death 
was  the  result  of  an  accident  rather  than  of  a 
deliberate  murder." 

"  How  ?  "  asked  Robert  greedily. 

"  My  theory  is  that  some  boy  prowling  along 
the  stream  saw  Frank's  gun,  and  probably  took 
it  up  and  began  monkeying  with  it  and  it  went  off 
accidentally  in  his  hands  just  as  your  father  came 
down  the  hill.  Of  course  the  boy  would  be 
frightened  out  of  his  wits  and  would  make  tracks 
for  cover;  and  it  isn't  likely  that  he  would  ever 
tell  on  himself  when  he  found  what  had  happened." 


"  Perhaps  you  are  right  in  your  surmises," 
said  Robert  thoughtfully,  "  but  I  wish  we  could 
clear  up  the  mystery ;  not  only  for  our  own  peace 
of  mind,  but  for  the  sake  of  Frank  Bent  and  his 
family.  Poor  Frank  will  never  be  the  same  till 
this  case  is  cleared  up." 

He  turned  away  with  a  sigh  and  Mark  was  glad 
that  he  did  not  press  the  matter  further.  Push- 
ing his  chair  back  and  rising  from  the  desk,  he 
began  pacing  the  floor  with  a  restless  step.  After 
several  turns  he  said  in  rather  dejected  tones, 

"  That  will  do,  Mark.  I  wish  to  be  alone  to 
settle  this  for  myself." 

Mark  bowed  in  acquiescence,  rose,  and  left  the 
room  in  silence. 


CHAPTER  XXI 
THE  MYSTERY  IS  SOLVED 

When  Nell  Stanton  left  the  office  she  hurried 
along  towards  her  home,  hoping  to  avoid  the 
watchful  eyes  of  the  pickets  whom  she  knew  to  be 
on  guard  at  every  corner  of  the  grounds.  But 
her  hopes  were  vain ;  for  she  had  been  seen  to  en- 
ter the  office  and  word  had  gone  forth  and  a  close 
watch  had  been  placed  on  the  door  to  herald  her 
return. 

As  a  matter  of  common  surmise  her  visit  to  the 
office  was  understood  by  the  pickets  to  be  in  re- 
lation to  the  reinstatement  of  Dick ;  and  naturally, 
they  were,  one  and  all,  anxious  to  learn  the  re- 
sults. Word  had  been  sent  to  Dick  at  the  tavern 
and  he  had  come  swaggering  home  as  fast  as  his 
rum-tottering  little  legs  could  carry  him.  He 
too  was  anxious  to  hear  the  answer  to  her  peti- 
tion. Dick  had  a  mighty  high  opinion  of  Nell's 
ability  to  plead  his  cause.  He  had  always  held 
her  in  the  greatest  respect.  In  fact,  he  rather 
stood  in  awe  of  her.  She  was  the  only  person 
who  had  ever  had  any  control  over  his  wild,  un- 
tamable nature.  It  was,  therefore,  with  a  stretch 

of   pride,   not   unmingled  with   triumph,   that  he 

341 


342      THE  SINS  OF  THE  FATHERS 

received  the  news  of  Nell's  intercession  in  his  be- 
half —  for  what  else  could  her  visit  to  the  office 
mean  ? 

He  had  not  been  home  since  early  Saturday 
morning,  having  spent  the  intervening  time  in 
keeping  the  men  in  line  to  do  his  bidding,  with 
headquarters  at  his  uncle's  tavern.  Nell  had  tried 
to  persuade  him  to  accept  his  discharge  and  let 
the  matter  drop  for  the  time  being;  but  he  was 
obdurate.  Hot  words  followed,  and  he  had  taken 
himself  off  in  high  dudgeon,  swearing  that  he 
would  bring  her  to  her  senses  before  he  returned. 
Nevertheless,  there  was  a  sneaking  fear  in  his 
heart  that  she  would  be  the  master. 

Now  he  felt  he  had  won.  A  couple  of  days 
had  brought  her  round  to  his  support.  Nell  had 
espoused  his  cause.  She  had  gone  to  Robert  Cole, 
and  she  would  win  where  others  had  failed.  All 
the  way  home  these  thoughts  danced  through  his 
rum-crazed  brain  and  he  laughed  aloud  in  fiendish 
delight.  When  he  reached  the  house  he  pushed 
the  door  open  and  called  her  name.  He  wanted 
to  make  sure  whether  she  had  returned  from  her 
mission.  Getting  no  response,  he  entered  boldly 
and  swung  himself  up  into  his  chair  at  the  table. 

Nell  had  prepared  his  breakfast  and  set  the 
table  as  usual  that  morning,  hoping  that  he  would 
come  home.  She  had  watched  for  him  and  from 
their  cottage  window  had  seen  him  swagger  up 
the  road.  She  had  witnessed  the  noisy  demonstra- 
tion in  front  of  the  office  and  quailed  with  fright 


THE  MYSTERY  IS  SOLVED        343 

at  the  thought  of  what  might  happen  if  the  mob 
spirit  of  that  half  tipsy  throng  should  be  roused 
and  get  beyond  control.  Later  her  blood  boiled 
with  indignation  as  she  saw  those  great  Titan- 
like  men  shoulder  Dick  and  take  up  their  march 
in  the  direction  of  her  uncle's  tavern.  It  was 
this  act  on  the  part  of  the  men  which  had  been 
the  impelling  force  in  her  decision  to  appeal  to 
Robert  in  behalf  of  Dick;  for  somehow,  the  idea 
that  her  poor,  deformed,  and  despised  offspring 
was  simply  a  tool  in  the  hands  of  these  men,  took 
possession  of  her.  She  felt  that  they  cared  little 
whether  he  was  reinstated  or  not,  so  long  as  they 
could  carouse  at  his  expense. 

As  Nell  hastened  along  on  her  way  home  from 
the  office  she  was  in  a  peculiar  state  of  mind. 
She  was  angry  at  herself  for  the  step  she  had 
taken.  She  felt  that  after  all  she  had  gained 
nothing,  but  had  lost  much  in  blasting  the  memory 
of  him  she  had  loved  in  the  eyes  of  his  son.  At 
the  corner  of  the  street  she  was  suddenly  sur- 
rounded by  several  of  the  pickets,  who  questioned 
her  as  to  her  success  with  the  boss.  She  was  in 
no  mood  to  brook  their  interference  and  they  saw 
their  mistake  instantly.  She  drew  herself  up 
haughtily,  and  with  blazing  eyes  waved  them  aside 
without  deigning  an  answer  to  their  questions, 
and  passed  on.  The  men  looked  at  each  other  in 
abashed  silence  and  stood  watching  her  until  she 
disappeared  under  the  vine-covered  porch  of  her 
home. 


344.      THE  SINS  OF  THE  FATHERS 

When  she  entered  the  house  she  was  confronted 
with  a  sight  that  turned  her  sick  at  heart.  Dick 
was  seated  at  the  table  with  a  partly  consumed 
bottle  of  whiskey  raised  to  his  lips  in  the  act  of 
pouring  what  remained  down  his  thirsty  throat. 
The  remnants  of  his  breakfast  were  scattered  over 
the  floor  and  the  table  and  down  the  beer-stained 
front  of  his  shirt  bosom.  His  head  was  tipped  so 
far  back  into  the  hollow  of  his  neck,  and  he  was 
so  deeply  engrossed  in  sampling  the  contents  of 
the  bottle,  that  he  neither  saw  nor  heard  her  en- 
ter the  room. 

"  Well !  "  She  had  gained  the  very  edge  of  the 
table  ere  she  spoke. 

Down  came  the  bottle  to  the  table  with  a  dull 
thud.  A  look  of  fear  flashed  across  his  face  as 
he  looked  up  and  met  the  blaze  of  her  angry  eyes. 
It  was  a  case  of  when  Greek  meets  Greek.  In- 
stantly he  seemed  to  recover  his  nerve;  and  he 
leered  up  into  her  face  with  an  impish  wink  that 
exasperated  her  almost  beyond  forbearance. 

"Well,  Sis,  and  what  news  from  the  boss?  I 
suppose  you've  settled  the  whole  d — d  question 
once  for  all  time.  He  surely  couldn't  refuse  my 
lady  sister." 

"  What  do  you  mean  ?  "  she  demanded  sharply. 

"  Mean  ?  "  And  he  grinned  knowingly.  "  Ah, 
come  on  now!  Did  you  think  you  could  get  in 
and  out  of  that  office  without  my  hearing  of  it? 
Come,  out  with  it!  what's  the  answer?  Am  I  to 
get  my  position  back  ?  " 


THE  MYSTERY  IS  SOLVED         345 

"  No !  "  It  was  all  she  could  say,  for  a  flood 
of  disgust  swept  over  her  soul  and  choked  her 
as  she  looked  at  the  besotted  being  to  whom  she 
had  given  life  and  nurture. 

"  So  that  is  his  answer  still,  is  it?  Then  he 
had  better  have  a  care,  or  I  may  fix  him  as  I  fixed 
his  bloody  old  father !  "  he  threatened  with  a  vi- 
cious scowl,  bringing  his  clenched  fist  down  on  the 
table  with  a  bang  that  set  the  dishes  a-rattling. 

Nell  had  turned  away  and  was  about  to  enter 
the  bedroom  when  his  threat  caught  her  ear. 
Whirling  quickly,  she  was  again  at  the  table, 
standing  over  him,  and  trembling  from  head  to 
foot. 

"  What's  that  you  say?  "  she  demanded. 

"  Oh,  nothing,"  he  replied  with  a  malignant 
wink  up  into  her  face ;  "  can't  a  man  talk  to  him- 
self if  he  wants  to?  " 

"  If  he  knew  what  he's  talking  about  he  may ; 
otherwise  he  had  better  keep  his  tongue  still," 
she  warned  him. 

"  Ha !  ha,  ha,"  he  laughed  uproariously.  "  I 
guess  I  know  what  I'm  talking  about.  I  think  I 
could  pick  him  off  as  neatly  as  I  did  his  old  ty- 
rant of  a  dad.  And  say,  Sis,  they  never  even  sus- 
pected me  of  doing  that  pretty  job,  did  they?" 
And  again  he  burst  into  a  roar  of  drunken  laugh- 
ter; and  reaching  for  the  bottle,  he  raised  it  to 
his  lips.  But  ere  a  drop  of  the  fiery  liquid  reached 
his  drooling  mouth  Nell  had  snatched  the  bottle 
from  his  hand  and  dashed  it  to  the  floor,  and  was 


346      THE  SINS  OF  THE  FATHERS 

towering  over  him  with  a  look  of  unspeakable 
horror  in  her  eyes. 

"  In  the  name  of  heaven,  Dick,  what  are  you 
talking  about?"  she  asked,  slowly,  trying  to 
steady  herself  by  grasping  the  table. 

Dick  was  now  in  that  babbling  stage  of  intoxi- 
cation that  brings  out  the  boastful  in  man.  He 
saw  the  horror  in  Nell's  eyes  and  seemed  to  take 
special  delight  in  her  torture.  After  a  moment's 
silence,  he  looked  up  into  her  face  with  the  most 
perfect  sang-froid  and  asked, 

"  I  never  told  you  how  neatly  I  peppered  old 
man  Cole,  did  I?" 

She  shook  her  head. 

"  That  only  shows  how  well  I  can  keep  a  secret," 
he  laughed.  "  Sit  down  then  and  I'll  tell  you  all 
about  it." 

She  obeyed  by  dropping  into  a  chair  in  her 
own  accustomed  place  at  the  table,  where  she 
could  watch  every  change  of  his  features ;  and 
folding  her  arms  across  the  edge  of  the  table,  she 
leaned  heavily  forward  and  waited  his  pleasure, 
knowing  he  would  take  his  own  time  to  begin. 

Nothing  pleased  Dick  more,  whether  drunk  or 
sober,  than  to  have  Nell  sit  down  and  listen  to 
him.  She  was  the  only  woman  he  had  ever  con- 
sidered worth  while  talking  to.  He  was  so  open 
and  frank  in  his  admiration  for  her  that  she  often 
wondered  whether  he  might  not  have  been  differ- 
ent in  character  had  she  kept  him  with  her  and 
told  him  the  truth  and  trained  him  in  her  own 


way.  But  as  she  sat  before  him  now,  waiting  for 
him  to  tell  her  what  she  dreaded  to  hear,  no  ma- 
ternal spark  thrilled  her  soul.  She  was  filled  with 
a  terrible  fear  and  a  loathing. 

At  last  he  began.  She  heard  his  voice  as  if 
coming  from  a  long  distance.  He  told  her  of 
how  Mr.  Cole  had  come  upon  him  that  day  in  the 
meadow  of  the  trout  preserves;  of  how  Mr.  Cole 
had  struck  him  with  his  whip  and  cursed  him ; 
and  of  how  he  had  thrown  the  pail  with  the  trout 
in  it  at  Mr.  Cole  and  then  walked  away. 

"  After  that,"  he  went  on,  "  I  was  so  devilish 
mad  I  didn't  care  where  I  went  as  long  as  I  got 
away  from  old  man  Cole.  I  reached  the  highway 
and  at  last  found  myself  up  at  Sunny  Brook. 
I  crossed  the  bridge  and  then  I  heard  the  clatter 
of  hoofs  and  thought  the  old  man  was  sure  after 
me  again ;  so  I  ran  for  dear  life  and  crept  through 
the  fence  into  the  Bent  grounds  and  hid  behind 
the  bushes  just  in  time  to  escape  his  seeing  me. 
He  rode  on  up  to  the  house  and  I  stole  out  from 
my  hiding-place  and  was  going  off  when  I  heard 
him  coming  back.  Somehow  I  thought  he  had 
been  up  there  to  tell  old  lady  Bent  that  I  was  on 
her  grounds,  and  I  grew  wild.  Just  then  I  saw 
the  gun  and  snatching  it  up,  I  aimed  it  at  the  fly- 
ing horse  and  pulled  the  trigger.  Then  I  set  the 
gun  back  and  crept  down  under  the  bridge  and 
along  the  brookside  till  I  reached  the  river.  The 
brook  is  shallow  at  that  point  and  I  had  no  diffi- 
culty in  wading  across.  Once  on  the  river's  bank, 


348      THE  SINS  OF  THE  FATHERS 

I  knew  I  was  safe;  so  I  took  my  time  in  walking 
back  to  the  village.  Of  course  I  didn't  know  that 
I  had  killed  old  Cole;  but  I  was  so  raging  mad 
that  I  didn't  care  a  cuss.  Just  as  I  was  climbing 
over  the  bridge  in  the  village,  Mark  Gibson  came 
along  and  told  me  that  the  old  man  was  dead. 
Mark  seemed  so  mightily  cut  up  over  it  that  for 
a  moment  I  felt  sorry,  just  for  Mark's  sake;  for 
you  know  Mark  has  always  been  mighty  good  to 
us.  I  walked  as  far  as  the  corner  with  Mark, 
then  I  left  him  and  came  home  and  told  Mother 
that  I  had  shot  old  man  Cole ;  and  she  just  dropped 
down  on  the  floor  and  never  spoke  again." 

He  paused ;  and  taking  a  flask  of  whisky  from 
his  inside  pocket,  he  raised  it  to  his  lips  and  gulped 
down  a  mouthful.  Nell  made  no  effort  to  prevent 
him  from  draining  the  bottle  if  he  chose.  She 
sat  as  if  stupefied,  pale  and  wild-eyed.  He 
reached  over  and  touched  her  hand.  She  sprang 
to  her  feet  as  if  a  wasp  had  stung  her. 

"  You  devil  incarnate ! "  she  cried,  catching 
him  by  the  shoulders  and  shaking  him  furiously. 
"  Richard  Cole  was  your  father,  and  you  have 
murdered  him !  " 

"  My  father ! "  he  gasped,  sobering  up  some- 
what under  her  shaking. 

"  Yes,  your  father ! "  she  raged.  "  And  you 
might  as  well  hear  the  whole  story  now.  Richard 
Cole  was  your  father,  and  I  am," —  she  hesitated, 
— "  your  mother !  "  she  finished  more  slowly,  sink- 
ing back  into  her  chair  from  sheer  exhaustion. 


THE  MYSTERY  IS  SOLVED        349 

For  several  seconds  there  was  dead  silence.  At 
last,  having  grasped  the  full  significance  of  her 
words,  he  leaned  towards  her  and  said  in  cold, 
stinging  tones, 

"  So  that  in  addition  to  all  my  other  natural 
endowments  I  can  boast  of  being  a  —  bastard?" 
There  was  a  depth  of  bitterness  in  his  voice  that 
would  be  hard  to  analyze;  a  bitterness  that  re- 
vealed to  her  more  than  anything  he  had  ever 
said  how  keenly  he  had  felt  his  deformity,  and 
also,  how  keenly  he  now  felt  the  degradation  of 
his  birth.  He  seemed  perfectly  sober  now  as  he 
sat  stiff  and  grim  before  her. 

She  felt  the  sting  of  his  reproach  and  sank 
back  into  her  chair.  She  wished  she  had  not  told 
him.  It  was  a  trying  moment  for  her,  after  all 
her  past  sufferings,  to  sit  there  and  wait  for  the 
condemnation  she  did  not  deserve.  When  he  spoke 
again  his  manner  frightened  her: 

"  So  old  man  Cole  was  my  dad?  I'll  have  a 
drink  on  that."  And  raising  the  flask  which  he 
still  held  in  his  hand  to  his  lips,  he  took  a  long 
draught  of  its  fiery  contents.  "  And  you  are  my 
mother?  I'll  have  another  drink  on  that."  And 
again  the  flask  went  to  his  lips.  "  Then  Bob 
Cole  must  be  my  brother,"  he  said  as  the  flask 
came  down  from  his  mouth.  "  My  brother,  damn 
him!  And  he  refuses  to  give  me  a  measly  job 
in  the  mill  yard !  Well  by  G — d,  I'll  not  take  his 
old  job  now!  I'll  go  down  and  dictate  my  own 
terms  to  him.  I'll  have  a  place  in  the  office  at  a 


360      THE  SINS  OF  THE  FATHERS 

good  fat  salary;  and  then  I  shall  not  have  to 
sell  beer  to  keep  me  like  a  gentleman,  as  I  should 
be  kept.  If  he  dares  to  refuse  my  terms,  I'll  send 
him  to  h — 1  after  his  old  dad!  I  should  have 
said,  '  our  dad.' "  He  dwelt  sneeringly  on  the 
"  our." 

At  that  moment  a  shout  was  heard  from  with- 
out, and  Dick  scrambled  down  from  his  chair, 
and  snatching  up  his  cap,  made  for  the  door. 
Nell  caught  his  arm  and  pleaded : 

"  Don't  go  yet,  Dick !  I  want  to  explain  some 
things  to  you;  and  you  are  not  in  a  condition  to 
go  out.  You  are  wasting  your  energy  traipsing 
through  the  town  as  you  have  been  doing.  You 
will  be  down  sick  again  before  you  know  the  limit 
of  your  strength,  and  then  — " 

She  got  no  further,  for  Dick  turned  on  her  like 
a  tiger. 

"  You  bloody  strumpet !  who  are  you  talking 
to ! "  he  gritted  through  his  teeth ;  and  drawing 
off  a  pace,  he  dealt  her  a  blow  with  his  clenched 
fist  that  felled  her  to  the  floor;  and  without  so 
much  as  a  side  glance  at  her  prostrate  form,  he 
staggered  out  to  the  waiting  throng  in  the  road 
below. 

A  cheer  greeted  his  appearance;  but  he  made 
no  response  to  their  salutations.  It  is  doubtful 
whether  he  saw  the  waving  caps  or  heard  more 
than  an  indistinct  murmur  of  the  sea  of  voices 
that  swelled  on  the  breeze.  With  his  cap  pulled 
well  down  over  his  eyes,  he  looked  neither  to  the 


THE  MYSTERY  IS  SOLVED        351 

right  nor  to  the  left  as  he  zigzagged  into  their 
midst,  waving  his  long  arms  and  muttering  in- 
coherently as  the  crowd  bore  him  on  towards  the 
main  gateway. 

The  whistle  had  sounded  forth  its  invitation  to 
all  who  wished  to  return  to  work ;  and  the  gates 
stood  invitingly  open.  As  in  the  morning,  the 
workmen  assembled  their  fighting  forces  on  the 
green  directly  in  front  of  the  office.  But  when 
they  attempted  to  place  Dick  on  the  bench,  as  they 
had  done  heretofore,  he  resented  their  freedom 
with  a  fury  that  sent  many  of  them  sprawling  to 
the  ground  with  a  suddenness  quite  unlocked  for. 

"  Stand  back ! "  shouted  Dick,  striking  out 
right  and  left  as  he  struggled  through  the  open- 
ing ranks.  "  This  is  my  fight !  and  by  hell,  I'll 
fight  it  out  in  my  own  way ! " 

By  this  time  he  was  on  the  outer  edge  of  the 
crowd,  staggering  towards  the  office  door.  The 
crowd  held  back  to  the  edge  of  the  green  in  surly 
silence,  for  they  had  suddenly  realized  that  he  was 
crazy  drunk  and  they  had  no  desire  to  incur  his 
ill-will  just  at  this  time.  Approaching  the  door, 
he  tried  to  open  it,  but  it  would  not  yield  to  his 
efforts.  Then  he  rapped  and  waited ;  and  the 
crowd  also  waited. 

Within  the  office  Mark  Gibson  sat  at  his  desk 
as  usual.  From  his  vantage  he  could  see  all  that 
was  going  on  outside  without  being  seen  himself. 
Robert  was  still  in  the  inner  office  wrestling  with 
the  problems  that  confronted  him.  So  far  as  he 


352      THE  SINS  OF  THE  FATHERS 

himself  was  concerned,  it  would  have  been  a  very 
easy  matter  to  settle  the  whole  question  once  for 
all  time.  But  there  was  Bell  and  his  mother  to 
be  taken  into  account.  It  was  his  duty  to  protect 
them ;  and,  so  far  as  he  could,  to  protect  the  mem- 
ory of  his  father  from  disgrace.  So  that,  dis- 
tasteful as  it  was  to  his  noble  spirit,  he  had  about 
made  up  his  mind  to  surrender  to  the  inevitable 
and  reinstate  Dick.  He  came  into  the  main  office 
with  rather  a  dejected  air  to  inform  Mark  of  his 
decision ;  but  ere  he  could  speak,  his  attention  was 
attracted  by  a  terrific  pounding  on  the  office  door. 

"What's  up?"  he  asked,  glancing  in  the  di- 
rection of  the  door.  "Is  the  door  locked?" 

"  Yes,"  answered  Mark.  "  I  locked  it  for  self- 
protection.  It's  Dick  who  is  knocking  at  the 
door.  He's  drunk  and  crazy  as  a  loon !  " 

"  Then  I'll  let  him  in  and  talk  to  him.  I  see 
I  shall  have  to  back  down ;  and  I  might  as  well 
do  it  first  as  last."  Saying  which,  he  walked  over 
to  the  door  and  opened  it. 

Dick  stood  on  the  step  as  Robert  opened  the 
door  and  appeared  on  the  threshold.  At  sight 
of  him,  Dick  shrank  back  a  pace,  and  a  hush  fell 
over  the  assemblage,  which  argued  well  for  Rob- 
ert. But  the  moment  he  attempted  to  speak,  his 
voice  was  drowned  in  a  howl  of  cat-calls,  groans, 
hisses,  and  cries  of  "  Give  us  our  rights !  "  and 
"  Down  with  tyrants ! "  while  a  menacing  display 
of  clenched,  burly  fists  rose  high  over  a  mass  of 
angry  faces. 


THE  MYSTERY  IS  SOLVED         353 

Robert  stood  his  ground  manfully,  and  without 
the  quiver  of  a  muscle  waited  for  the  tumult  to 
cease.  Looking  into  the  faces  of  the  men  whom  he 
had  befriended  in  many  ways,  he  appealed  mutely 
to  their  sense  of  justice.  But  he  might  as  well 
have  appealed  to  the  waves  of  the  ocean  to  pause 
in  their  eternal  roll  across  the  sands.  Unfortu- 
nately, Robert  had  overlooked  the  nearness  of 
Dick,  who  had  braced  himself  against  the  jamb 
of  the  door  directly  under  Robert's  elbow.  His 
eyes  were  fixed  on  Robert's  face  with  a  malignant 
gleam.  At  last  Robert  seemed  to  see  him  for  the 
first  time. 

"  Why,  hello,  Dick,"  said  Robert,  looking  down 
on  the  half  crouching  form  with  a  pitying  glance. 
"  You  are  just  the  chap  I  want  to  see.  Come 
in  and  I'll  have  a  talk  with  you." 

But  the  perversity  of  Dick's  nature  was  roused. 
A  fierce  hatred  was  burning  in  his  soul.  He  was 
at  enmity  with  all  the  world.  He  hated  Nell ;  he 
hated  Robert  and  all  belonging  to  him ;  and  he 
hated  himself  more  than  all  else. 

"  Well,  and  I've  got  a  few  words  to  say  to  you ; 
but  I  can  say  them  just  as  well  here  as  anywhere," 
he  snarled;  "and  first,  I  want  to  tell  you  that  it 
was  I  who  killed  your  old  father  —  I  mean  our  old 
father  —  and  I  mean  to  kill  you !  " 

Instantly  there  was  a  flash,  a  report,  then  sev- 
eral shots  in  quick  succession,  and  Robert  was  seen 
to  reel  backward  into  the  arms  of  Mark  Gibson, 
who  had  sprung  forward  at  the  first  shot. 


354      THE  SINS  OF  THE  FATHERS 

The  crowd  shrank  back  in  horror  when  the  men 
realized  what  had  happened.  Cries  of  "  Lynch 
him !  Lynch  him ! "  filled  the  air ;  but  no  one 
dared  approach  to  carry  out  the  command. 
Dick  faced  the  crowd  with  his  devil-may-care 
laugh  and  brandished  the  smoking  revolver  in  the 
air.  The  crowd  fell  farther  back  and  an  ominous 
silence  settled  over  it.  Something  in  the  white 
faces  of  those  nearest  to  him  caused  the  laugh 
to  die  in  his  lips.  For  an  instant  he  looked  into 
their  faces,  as  if  seeking  their  approbation. 
Whether  the  gravity  of  his  wanton  deed  dawned 
upon  his  rum-crazed  brain  and  struck  him,  with 
remorse,  or  whether  he  detected  a  movement  on  the 
part  of  the  crowd  to  hem  him  in,  will  never  be 
known ;  but  certain  it  is  that  his  face  suddenly 
reflected  the  terror  of  those  about  him,  and  a 
horrible  fear  seemed  to  seize  him.  His  face  turned 
ghastly ;  his  eyes  seemed  to  start  from  their  sock- 
ets ;  and  a  shudder  passed  over  his  bulky  frame. 
The  crowd  began  to  move  slowly  towards  him  and 
seemed  preparing  for  a  rush;  when  suddenly  he 
turned  the  still  smoking  revolver  on  himself,  and 
the  next  instant  he  lay  writhing  across  the  office 
steps,  while  a  trickle  of  blood  marked  the  course 
of  the  bullet. 

At  the  moment  Dick  fell,  Mr.  Lunt  and  Dr.  St. 
John  had  succeeded  in  pushing  their  way  through 
the  crowd.  Up  to  the  moment  of  the  shooting 
they,  with  Dr.  Craig,  had  been  watching  the 
demonstration  from  the  steps  of  the  post  office. 


THE  MYSTERY  IS  SOLVED         855 

They  saw  Robert  come  to  the  door  and  watched 
for  the  effect.  The  old  doctor  gave  an  angry 
snort  when  the  crowd  began  to  j  eer ;  and  Dr.  Craig 
muttered  something  that  sounded  very  much  like 
an  oath.  Then  came  the  report  of  the  revolver. 
They  saw  the  puff  of  smoke,  and  then  Robert  sink 
back  in  the  doorway. 

"My  God!  Robert  is  shot!"  cried  Dr.  St. 
John,  trembling  with  excitement.  "  Run  to  the 
house,  Craig,  and  bring  down  my  case  and  band- 
ages and  meet  me  at  the  office.  Come,  Lunt,  there 
is  something  for  you  to  do  at  last ! "  And  while 
he  was  yet  speaking,  they  were  pushing  their  way 
through  the  crowd. 

Reaching  the  office,  the  doctor  stepped  over  the 
writhing  form  of  Dick  and  burst  into  the  room 
just  as  Mark  had  laid  the  heavy  form  of  Robert 
on  the  floor.  The  doctor  gave  one  glance  at  the 
white  face  of  Robert  and  then,  as  if  by  magic,  his 
excitement  subsided  and  the  professional  man  was 
very  much  in  evidence.  Throwing  off  his  coat, 
he  gave  his  orders  to  Mark  as  he  bent  over  the 
wounded  man.  He  made  a  hurried  examination 
and  found  that  three  bullets  had  taken  effect ;  that 
while  neither  in  itself  was  fatal,  the  three  together 
made  an  ugly  case.  Robert  was  still  unconscious 
when  Dr.  Craig  arrived  with  his  surgical  appli- 
ances ;  but  he  opened  his  eyes  at  the  first  probe 
of  the  instrument,  gazed  about  with  a  questioning 
stare,  and  immediately  sank  back  into  oblivion. 

Meanwhile,  Mr.  Lunt  had  taken  charge  of  Dick 


356      THE  SINS  OF  THE  FATHERS 

Stanton,  and  held  the  infuriated  crowd  at  bay. 
Frank  Bent  and  Mr.  Hall,  hearing  of  what  had 
happened,  worked  their  way  to  the  side  of  Mr. 
Lunt  and  offered  their  services.  Mr.  Lunt  wanted 
Dick  carried  inside.  Frank  beckoned  several  men 
whom  he  knew  he  could  trust ;  and  in  a  few  mo- 
ments Dick  was  lying  on  the  floor  of  the  office 
beside  his  victim. 

While  Dr.  St.  John  worked  over  Robert,  with 
the  assistance  of  Mark,  Dr.  Craig  gave  his  at- 
tention to  Dick.  In  a  few  moments  Dick's  eyes 
sprang  open  and  rested  on  the  face  of  Frank 
Bent,  who  was  kneeling  beside  him  smoothing  the 
matted  hair  back  from  the  damp  forehead.  A 
shiver  passed  over  his  misshapen  frame  and  for  a 
moment  he  writhed  in  agony  as  he  fixed  his  eyes 
on  Frank's  face. 

"  Frank  !  "     His  voice  was  weak. 

"  Yes,  Dick,"  answered  Frank  kindly. 

"  Am  I  dying?  "  he  asked  pitifully. 

"  I  don't  know,  Dick ;  but  you  are  desperately 
wounded.  Why  did  you  do  it?  " 

"  Because  I  couldn't  stand  it  any  longer, 
Frank."  He  closed  his  eyes  for  a  second  while 
his  face  contorted  with  pain.  When  the  pain 
eased  up  he  opened  his  eyes  and  gazing  up  into 
Frank's  face  said,  "  If  you'll  promise  not  to  de- 
sert me  till  the  end,  I'll  tell  you  something."  A 
spasm  of  pain  again  convulsed  him. 

"  I  will  stand  by  you  till  the  end,  Dick ! "  he 
promised. 


THE  MYSTERY  IS  SOLVED         S57 

"  It  was  I  —  who  —  shot  old  —  man  Cole !  " 
Another  spasm  shook  his  frame,  and  he  gasped 
for  breath. 

"  For  heaven's  sake,  Doctor,  give  him  some- 
thing to  stimulate  him ! "  cried  Frank,  lifting  the 
dying  man's  head  up  against  his  knee. 

The  doctor  poured  a  spoonful  of  brandy  down 
his  throat,  and  the  convulsion  passed  off. 

"  Now,  Dick,  tell  us  why  and  how  you  shot  Mr. 
Cole !  I  mean  Richard  Cole ! "  asked  Frank. 
Mr.  Lunt  and  the  doctor  bent  over  to  hear. 

"I  —  shot  him  —  with  your  —  gun.  He  struck 
me  —  on  —  the  face  —  with  his  —  whip.  I  can 
feel  it  now ! "  he  cried,  suddenly  raising  his  hand 
and  rubbing  his  cheek.  "  Don't  you  see  the  red 
mark?  Blast  him!" 

"  But  why  did  he  strike  you?  "  hungrily  ques- 
tioned Frank. 

"  He  caught  me  seining  his  trout.  But  —  if 
I'd  —  only  known  —  what  — "  Another  spasm 
checked  him  for  the  moment. 

The  doctor  administered  another  spoonful  of 
brandy ;  and  again  the  dying  man  rallied. 

"  I  want  to  —  tell  —  you,  Frank,"  he  said 
painfully,  "  that  I  am  —  not  —  such  —  a  wretch 
—  as  you  may  think ;  for  if  —  you  had  —  been 
convicted, —  I  would  have  —  confessed  then.  I 
would  —  so  help  me  —  God  !  You  —  believe  — 
me  ?  don't  —  you  ?  "  And  he  turned  his  glassy 
eyes  up  into  Frank's  face. 

"  Yes,  I  believe  you,  Dick ! "  Frank  replied  in 


broken  tones,  while  the  tears  streamed  down  his 
cheeks. 

"  You  —  always  —  did  believe  me,  Frank, — 
you  and  Nell  —  were  the  only  ones  —  who  —  ever 
treated  me  —  as  if  I  was  —  human.  Tell  her  I'm 
sorry  — "  He  gasped,  and  all  was  over. 

"  Poor  Dick ! "  said  Frank  tenderly,  as  he  laid 
the  poor,  unfortunate  one  back  on  the  floor. 
"  God  will  deal  kindly  with  you,  for  you  didn't 
have  a  fair  show  from  the  beginning." 

As  Frank  rose  from  his  knees  with  tears  in  his 
eyes,  Mr.  Lunt  grasped  him  by  the  hand,  and 
shaking  it  heartily,  said  under  his  breath, 

"  Congratulations,  Mr.  Bent ;  the  mystery  is  at 
last  cleared  up  and  you  are  doubly  vindicated! 
I  have  had  my  suspicions  of  Dick  for  over  two 
years." 

Frank  returned  the  pressure  of  his  hand  in 
silence,  for  he  was  too  much  overcome  to  speak. 
By  this  time  Dr.  St.  John  had  made  Robert  as 
comfortable  as  he  could  be  made  temporarily,  and 
had  dispatched  Mark  with  a  message  to  Mrs.  Cole 
to  get  Robert's  bed  in  readiness. 

The  crowd  without  waited  in  awed  silence  for 
some  word  of  Robert's  condition.  When  Mark 
stepped  from  the  office  door  he  was  instantly  sur- 
rounded by  a  crowd  of  serious-faced  men,  who 
anxiously  inquired  if  Robert  was  alive.  Mark 
was  in  an  ugly  frame  of  mind;  for  he  was  nearly 
distracted  with  grief  and  rage.  He  dared  not 
look  at  the  inquisitors  lest  he  should  be  tempted 


THE  MYSTERY  IS  SOLVED        359 

to  throttle  them  in  revenge  for  his  young  friend's 
wrongs.  He  could  not  speak,  so  he  merely  shook 
his  head  sorrowfully,  waved  them  aside,  and  has- 
tened on,  leaving  them  to  draw  their  own  con- 
clusions. 

Immediately  after  Mark  left  the  office,  the  gates 
of  the  plant  were  closed  by  the  watchman  and  a 
feeling  of  gloom  and  anxiety,  under  an  air  of  sub- 
dued excitement,  settled  over  the  village. 


CHAPTER  XXII 
NELL  STANTON'S  LAST  SACRIFICE 

<in>  hi  tin  MM  v»f»ms  ,/*-•  '•  f*<f  («••-.  ^.-H-!;,   '<>  :v •'{»  •* 

As  soon  as  safety  permitted,  Robert  was  car- 
ried home  and  laid  in  his  own  bed.  Dr.  Craig 
was  installed  as  nurse;  and  Dr.  St.  John,  who 
insisted  on  remaining  near  his  patient,  was  as- 
signed a  room  leading  off  Robert's. 

Mrs.  Cole  was  prostrated  with  grief.  Though 
nearly  broken-hearted  herself,  Bell  held  up  with 
wonderful  fortitude,  and  divided  her  time  between 
consoling  her  mother  and  hanging  over  the  un- 
conscious form  of  Robert. 

The  bullets  had  been  extracted,  and  though 
weak  from  loss  of  blood,  the  doctor  saw  no  reason 
why  Robert  should  not  pull  through  all  right. 
But  the  hours  of  anxious  waiting  dragged  slowly 
on.  Mrs.  Cole  grew  impatient  watching  for  some 
sign  of  life  in  her  loved  one.  Again  she  lived 
over  those  terrible  days  of  her  husband's  death. 
Was  she  doomed  to  face  another  tragic  death  in 
her  family?  Could  she  live  through  it?  Her 
grief  was  pitiable  to  see ;  but  she  had  loving  hands 
to  soothe  her  sorrow,  and  hope  to  buoy  her  up. 

But  down  in  the  little  cottage  at  the  farther 
end  of  the  town  lay  another  mother,  childless  and 
360 


NELL'S  LAST  SACRIFICE  361 

alone,  dry-eyed  and  hopeless.  No  kindred  hand 
stroked  her  head ;  no  kind  voice  whispered  a  word 
of  hope  in  her  ear.  The  light,  such  as  it  was, 
had  gone  out  of  her  life  forever;  and  the  world 
looked  dark  and  desolate.  This  was  Nell  Stan- 
ton,  the  mother  of  Dick,  the  author  of  all  this 
misery.  God  pity  her!  and  pity  all  such  mothers 
who  are  left  to  face  alone  the  ignominy  of  some- 
body else's  wrongdoing.  And  who  can  say  that 
God  did  not  pity  her? 

It  fell  to  the  lot  of  Frank  Bent  to  carry  the 
news  of  Dick's  death  to  Nell  Stanton.  It  was  a 
delicate  task;  but  it  was  felt  that  he  could  do 
it  better  than  anyone  else.  When  he  reached  the 
house  he  found  the  door  standing  open,  and  Nell 
lying  almost  across  the  threshold  in  a  pool  of 
blood,  and  unconscious. 

Beckoning  to  a  group  of  women  whom  he  had 
passed  at  the  corner  of  the  lane  leading  to  the 
house,  he  entered,  and  lifting  the  limp  form  in  his 
strong  arms,  laid  it  gently  on  the  lounge.  By 
this  time  the  women  were  at  his  side,  all  curious 
to  know  what  had  happened. 

"  It  looks  like  a  hemorrhage,"  was  all  he  could 
answer  while  attempting  to  stanch  the  flow  of 
blood  that  still  oozed  from  between  her  white  lips. 
Directing  one  to  call  the  doctor  and  another  to 
loosen  her  clothing,  Frank  applied  such  remedies 
as  were  at  hand  till  Dr.  Craig  arrived. 

She  revived  shortly,  and  opening  her  large,  dark 
eyes,  looked  about  in  dismay.  At  last  her  eyes 


rested  on  Frank's  face,  and  she  shrank  away  from 
him  in  terror. 

"  Don't  be  alarmed,  Miss  Stanton,  everything  is 
all  right ! "  said  Frank  kindly,  pressing  her 
emaciated  hand. 

Drawing  her  hand  away,  she  whispered  faintly, 

"Dick  —  where  is  he?" 

"  Don't  bother  about  Dick  now,"  chided  the 
doctor  with  a  shade  of  impatience.  "  Think  of 
yourself.  You  have  had  a  severe  hemorrhage,  and 
you  must  not  talk !  "  And  he  laid  his  fingers  ad- 
monishingly  on  his  lips. 

"  A  hemorrhage,"  she  repeated  faintly  while  a 
sad,  sweet  smile  settled  on  her  face,  and  closing 
her  eyes,  she  lay  for  sometime  as  if  asleep.  There 
was  no  complaint ;  and  not  a  hint  of  Dick's  brutal- 
ity in  striking  her  down  passed  her  lips. 

The  doctor  left,  after  giving  strict  injunctions 
to  the  kind  neighbor  who  had  volunteered  to  re- 
main with  her  for  a  while  that  she  was  not  to  be 
disturbed,  and  was  to  be  kept  perfectly  quiet. 

An  hour  later  her  uncle  Jack  burst  into  the 
house  in  a  rage  of  righteous  indignation  and  up- 
braided her  for  the  terrible  disgrace  she,  through 
her  rattled-brained  son,  had  brought  upon  the 
name  of  Stanton;  and  ere  the  neighbor  in  charge 
of  the  house  could  prevent,  he  had  blurted  out 
the  news  of  the  murder  and  suicide. 

With  a  bound  Nell  was  on  her  feet,  facing  her 
uncle  like  an  outraged  Niobe.  She  tried  to  speak, 


NELL'S  LAST  SACRIFICE  363 

but  no  sound  issued  from  her  parted  lips.  For  a 
moment  she  stood  thus,  then  swayed  like  a  willow 
sapling  in  the  wind  and  sank  into  the  arms  of  the 
woman,  who  bore  her  back  gently  on  the  lounge, 
and  peremptorily  ordered  Jack  from  the  house. 
For  hours  she  lay  with  closed  eyes  and  hands 
clasped  on  her  breast,  as  if  in  prayer.  Dick's 
body  was  brought  home,  but  she  took  no  notice 
of  anything  that  went  on  about  her.  About  six 
o'clock  she  opened  her  eyes  and  called  for  Mark 
Gibson.  He  was  sent  for  and  came  immediately. 
She  dismissed  the  woman,  saying  that  her  business 
with  Mark  was  private.  When  they  were  alone 
she  turned  to  him  and  said  in  tones  scarcely  above 
a  whisper, 

"  Mark,  I  am  sorry  for  what  has  happened  — 
sorry  that  I  told  Robert  —  sorry  that  I  told  Dick. 
But  being  sorry  won't  bring  them  back;  will  it?  " 
She  paused  for  breath. 

He  saw  that  she  was  laboring  under  the  impres- 
sion that  Robert  was  dead ;  and  having  heard  how 
serious  her  condition  was,  felt  he  had  no  right 
to  torture  her,  so  he  hastened  to  relieve  her  mind. 

"  Robert  is  not  dead,  Nell.  He  is  severely 
wounded,  but  his  wounds  are  not  necessarily  fatal. 
We  have  strong  hopes  of  his  recovery." 

"  Thank  God !  "  she  breathed  with  a  deep  sigh 
of  relief.  Then  taking  a  key  from  about  her  neck 
and  handing  it  to  Mark,  she  instructed  him  to 
go  into  the  next  room  and  open  her  trunk  and 


364      THE  SINS  OF  THE  FATHERS 

bring  her  a  tin  box  which  he  would  find  at  the  bot- 
tom of  it.  He  left  her  and  in  a  few  minutes  re- 
turned with  the  box. 

Handing  him  another  key  she  bade  him  open 
the  box.  He  did  so,  and  found  it  contained  pack- 
ages of  letters,  old  and  yellow  with  age. 

"  Those  are  the  letters  he  wanted,"  she  said 
painfully,  taking  up  a  package.  "  I  want  you 
to  burn  them,  there  —  in  —  the  stove,  where  I  can 
see  you  do  it."  She  handed  him  the  package  as 
she  spoke. 

He  rose  and  without  a  word  thrust  some  paper 
into  the  stove,  applied  a  match,  and  shook  the 
letters  loose  in  the  blaze.  That  Mark  was  deeply 
affected  was  plain  to  see,  for  his  hands  trembled, 
and  several  times  he  gulped  down  something  that 
rose  in  his  throat  and  almost  choked  him.  There 
were  five  packages  in  all.  Last  she  took  up  a 
long  blue  envelope  and  drew  forth  a  folded  paper. 
Handing  it  to  him,  she  said  sadly, 

"  That  was  my  passport  to  heaven ;  but  it  led 
me  to  hell !  " 

"  May  I  read  it,"  he  asked  in  a  choking  voice. 

"  You  may." 

It  was  the  bogus  marriage  certificate,  which 
Richard  Cole  would  have  given  half  his  fortune 
to  get  possession  of.  Mark  read  it  through  care- 
fully and  then  crumpling  it  savagely  in  his  hand, 
thrust  it  into  the  stove  and  watched  the  flames 
devour  it. 

During  all   this  time  Nell's  eyes  had  scarcely 


NELL'S  LAST  SACRIFICE  365 

left  his  face  an  instant.  When  his  work  was 
finished  he  came  and  sat  down  beside  her,  and 
laying  his  hand  gently  on  her  head,  said  ten- 
derly, 

"  It  is  best  that  it  should  be  so.  You  have 
suffered  much.  God  only  knows  why  it  was  per- 
mitted! Yet  through  it  all  you  have  been  brave, 
patient,  and  self-sacrificing;  and  this  renuncia- 
tion is  the  crowning  sacrifice  of  your  life.  Re- 
venge is  petty  in  any  case;  but  when  it  is  aimed 
at  and  hits  the  innocent,  it  is  criminal.  I  may 
have  seemed  a  little  hard  at  times,  Nell,  but  it 
was  only  because  I  was  hard  pushed.  You  know 
the  mischief  was  done  before  I  came  into  the  case ; 
and  all  I  could  do  was  to  stand  in  the  breach  to 
prevent  the  wreckage  of  another  home." 

"  I  have  nothing  to  complain  of,  Mark,  so  far 
as  you  are  concerned.  Your  position  was  not  an 
enviable  one.  You  tried  to  be  kind  to  me  and  to 
shield  him  at  the  same  time.  You  were  bound  to 
work  for  his  interest  because  he  was  your  master, 
as  he  was  mine.  Yet  I  trusted  you ;  and  you 
never  failed  me!  And  you  will  not  fail  me  now! 
You  will  still  keep  the  confidence  he  placed  in  you. 
When  I  am  gone,  and  Robert  gets  well  enough  to 
be  told,  tell  him  that  all  evidence  is  destroyed; 
that  only  you  and  he  in  the  whole  world  know 
the  secret.  It  rests  with  you  two  to  guard  it. 
See  to  it  that  no  blot  attaches  to  his  memory; 
and  that  no  unnecessary  pang  of  pain  is  inflicted 
on  the  innocent.  You  will  do  this  ?  " 


366      THE  SINS  OF  THE  FATHERS 

"  I  will,  if  God  spares  me  —  and  him !  "  prom- 
ised Mark  solemnly. 

There  was  a  rap  at  the  door,  and  Mark  hastened 
to  open  it.  It  was  Frank  Bent  and  his  grand- 
mother, who  had  come  to  spend  the  night  with 
Nell.  Having  heard  from  Frank  of  the  terrible 
tragedy  and  of  the  confession  of  Dick,  Mrs.  Bent's 
heart  went  out  in  motherly  sympathy  to  the  lonely 
woman ;  and  instructing  Milly  to  fix  a  basket  of 
dainties,  and  Joe  to  harness  the  horse,  she  donned 
her  garments  and  insisted  on  Frank's  driving  her 
down.  When  Mrs.  Bent  explained  that  she  and 
Frank  had  come  to  stay  over  night  with  the 
stricken  woman,  Mark  prepared  to  go. 

"  Don't  go  yet,  Mark !  I  have  something  more 
to  say,  and  I  want  you  to  hear  it,  so  that  justice 
may  be  done."  And  she  motioned  them  all  to 
come  nearer. 

They  did  so,  Mrs.  Bent  dropping  into  the  chair 
from  which  Mark  had  just  risen,  where  she  could 
watch  the  features  of  the  dying  woman. 

"  Just  before  Dick  left  the  house  to-day,  he 
told  me  that  it  was  he  who  shot  Richard  Cole. 
That  was  what  brought  on  the  hemorrhage." 
She  closed  her  eyes  and  shuddered. 

"  Yes,  Nell,  we  know  all  about  it.  Dick  con- 
fessed to  Frank  before  he  died,"  said  Mrs.  Bent, 
taking  Nell's  hand  and  stroking  it  gently. 

Her  eyes  flew  wide  open  and  fixing  them  on 
Frank's  face,  she  asked, 

"  And  you  forgave  him  ?  " 


NELL'S  LAST  SACRIFICE  367 

"  I  did !  "  replied  Frank  earnestly. 

"  God  bless  you !  "  Her  words  were  fervent. 
"  You  too  have  suffered  through  the  sins  of 
an  — "  A  fit  of  coughing  cut  off  her  breath. 

A  crimson  stain  on  her  white  lips  warned  them 
of  what  was  coming.  Mrs.  Bent  hastened  to  raise 
the  head  of  the  distressed  woman ;  and  pressing 
it  tenderly  against  her  motherly  breast,  she  gave 
comfort  to  the  dying.  And  thus  Nell  Stanton, 
the  wronged  and  long-suffering,  passed  on  to  that 
land  where  no  word  of  unmerited  reproach  could 
evermore  hurt  her  loyal  heart. 

Towards  eight  o'clock  that  same  evening,  Rob- 
ert opened  his  eyes  and  gazed  mutely  into  the  anx- 
ious faces  of  those  about  him.  Dr.  St.  John 
smiled  benignantly  down  on  him  as  he  took  the  al- 
most bloodless  wrist  between  his  professional 
thumb  and  fingers  and  stood  counting  the  beats. 
A  faint  smile  lighted  up  Robert's  features  as  he 
met  the  genial  look  in  the  old  doctor's  eyes. 

"  Nothing  serious,  Doctor? "  he  half  ques- 
tioned, intently  watching  for  any  change  of  the 
doctor's  expression. 

"  Not  the  least,  my  boy,  if  you  will  only  obey 
orders,"  quietly  replied  the  doctor.  "  And  my 
first  order  is,  that  you  keep  perfectly  quiet  for 
the  next  twenty-four  hours.  You  must  ask  no 
questions,  and  I'll  take  care  that  nobody  asks  you 
any,  except  myself." 

Robert  nodded  his  head  in  acquiescence  and 
smiled  encouragingly  into  his  mother's  face  as  she 


368      THE  SINS  OF  THE  FATHERS 

bent  over  and  kissed  him.  Then  he  closed  his  eyes 
obediently;  and  shortly  after,  his  regular  breath- 
ing told  them  that  he  slept  the  sleep  of  the  weary. 

Robert  had  a  fairly  good  night.  About  six  in 
the  morning,  Bell  stole  into  his  room  and  insisted 
on  Dr.  Craig's  retiring  for  a  few  hours'  repose 
while  she  kept  watch.  He  was  really  tired  and 
worn  out  by  his  night's  vigil,  and  knowing  that 
Robert  would  be  in  good  hands,  decided  to  obey 
what  was  practically  her  command. 

Robert  was  sleeping  lightly.  Bell  took  her  sta- 
tion at  the  open  window  near  the  head  of  the  bed, 
where,  though  screened  from  view,  she  could  see 
every  move  he  made.  An  hour  passed  when  she 
was  conscious  of  someone  entering  the  room  and 
softly  approaching  the  bed.  Thinking  it  was  Dr. 
St.  John,  and  that  he  would  retire  as  soon  as  he 
saw  that  Robert  still  slept,  she  did  not  stir,  lest 
any  move  on  her  part  would  waken  the  sleeper. 
The  footsteps  paused  at  the  foot  of  the  bed ;  and 
she  was  surprised  to  see  Robert's  eyes  spring  open, 
and  to  hear  him  say, 

"  Ah,  Mr.  Lunt,  I  fear  this  is  an  ugly  affair." 

"  Not  so  bad  as  it  might  have  been,"  answered 
Mr.  Lunt  in  a  low  voice.  He  moved  up  to  the 
head  of  the  bed  and  sat  down  in  the  chair  the 
doctor  had  left.  Evidently  thinking  they  were 
alone,  he  went  on :  "I  have  come  to  tell  you  that 
Dr.  Craig,  as  you  call  him,  will  be  placed  under 
arrest  early  to-morrow  morning.  I  have  tried 


NELL'S  LAST  SACRIFICE  369 

my  best  to  stave  it  off  longer,  but  find  it  im- 
possible. My  men  are  growing  restive  under  their 
enforced  idleness ;  and  now  that  Dick  Stanton  is 
dead  — " 

"  Dick  dead ! "  exclaimed  Robert  in  an  excited 
tone. 

"  Yes,  after  shooting  you  he  turned  the  pistol 
on  himself.  And  that  isn't  all.  He  confessed 
to  the  murder  of  your  father.  I  had  my  sus- 
picions of  him  for  the  last  two  years ;  and  if  it 
hadn't  been  for  Mark  Gibson,  I'd  have  had  him 
long  ago,  and  got  the  reward." 

"  Don't  fret  about  the  reward,  I'll  see  that  you 
get  it ;  only  I  want  you  to  let  up  on  Craig  for  the 
present." 

"  But  I  am  afraid  he  will  slip  through  my  nets 
yet." 

"  How  can  he  escape  while  you  keep  him  un- 
der surveillance !  "  exclaimed  Robert  impatiently. 
"  Besides  he  has  no  suspicion  of  your  designs." 

"  But  there  is  the  possibility  of  your  betraying 
the  whole  business  should  a  fever  set  in,  as  the 
doctor  thinks  is  highly  probable;  and  my  men 
don't  purpose  to  let  another  five  thousand  dol- 
lars slip  through  their  fingers  if  they  can  help  it." 
He  spoke  hurriedly,  and  as  Bell  thought, 
cruelly.  At  the  first  sound  of  Mr.  Lunt's  voice, 
Bell  had  risen,  intending  to  step  out  and  inter- 
pose ;  but  ere  she  could  move,  her  steps  were  ar- 
rested by  the  mention  of  Dr.  Craig's  name.  She 


370      THE  SINS  OF  THE  FATHERS 

stood  as  if  stunned,  leaning  slightly  forward  in 
breathless  silence,  drinking  in  every  word  that 
passed  between  them. 

"  Well,  if  you  have  really  made  up  your  mind, 
there  is  no  use  in  my  arguing  the  matter  further," 
said  Robert  after  a  moment's  pause.  "  But  as  I 
told  you  before,  so  I  tell  you  again, —  I  do  not  be- 
lieve he  committed  the  murder;  and  I  shall  stand 
by  him  to  the  end,  if  I  live.  You  will  wait  till 
to-morrow  morning,  you  say  ?  " 

"  Yes." 

"  Then  promise  me  one  thing." 

"What?" 

"  That  you  will  let  me  know  when  the  arrest  is 
made  so  I  can  make  provisions  for  his  defense." 

"  If  I  can,  yes.  Sh !  someone  is  coming !  "  cau- 
tioned Mr.  Lunt;  and  the  next  instant  Dr.  St. 
John  entered  in  a  flurry. 

"  Call  this  obeying  orders ! "  chided  the  doc- 
tor in  a  brusque  tone ;  and  with  a  peremptory  mo- 
tion of  his  head  for  Mr.  Lunt  to  leave  the  room, 
he  placed  his  fingers  on  Robert's  quickening  pulse. 
His  face  assumed  a  grave  expression,  and  he  eyed 
Robert  suspiciously.  "  That  fellow  has  been 
talking  to  you  about  something  he  had  no  business 
to!  Some  men  are  born  fools!  Where's  Craig? 
Why  isn't  he  here  at  his  post  ?  "  grumbled  the  old 
doctor  with  increasing  irritation. 

Bell  stood  as  if  petrified.  She  dared  not  go 
forward  lest  her  appearance  should  add  to  Rob- 
ert's excitement  and  make  a  bad  matter  worse. 


NELL'S  LAST  SACRIFICE  371 

He  must  not  know  that  she  had  heard  anything; 
for,  should  he  know,  he  might  pledge  her  to  a 
secrecy  she  could  not  and  would  not  keep.  She 
looked  about  for  some  means  of  escape ;  and  her 
heart  gave  a  bound  as  she  saw  the  door  of  Rob- 
ert's dressing-room  standing  ajar  behind  her.  If 
she  could  only  gain  it  without  being  seen  by  the 
lynx-eyed  old  doctor,  she  would  be  ,safe.  She 
turned  and  glided  swiftly  and  noislessly  as  a 
shadow  to  the  open  door  and  into  the  dressing- 
room,  bringing  up  in  the  arms  of  Doctor  Craig, 
who  stood  just  over  the  threshold,  and  who  had 
evidently  been  listening  also.  She  would  have 
screamed  had  he  not  clapped  his  hand  over  her 
mouth  as  he  caught  her  in  his  arms.  Motioning 
for  silence  as  he  released  her,  he  ran  his  fingers 
carelessly  through  his  hair  and  glided  swiftly  into 
the  chamber  to  account  for  his  negligence  as  best 
he  could ;  while  she  staggered  against  the  wall, 
where  she  leaned,  faint  and  sick,  for  some  mo- 
ments. 

"  Good  morning,  Doctor,"  saluted  the  young 
man  in  muffled  tones,  as  he  made  his  appearance 
from  the  dressing-room.  Receiving  a  mere  grunt 
of  recognition  from  the  old  doctor  who  was  busy 
mixing  a  draught  at  the  table,  he  turned  to  the 
bed.  "  Why,  hello !  Awake,  are  you  ?  I  didn't 
know  but  you  were  going  to  prove  yourself  akin 
to  the  Seven  Sleepers.  Had  a  splendid  night's 
rest ! "  he  went  on,  while  studying  the  slightly 
flushed  face  on  the  pillow. 


Robert  smiled  faintly;  then  a  spasm  of  pain 
swept  across  his  face,  and  his  eyelids  drooped 
wearily  over  his  brilliant  eyes. 

With  a  qualm  of  remorse,  the  doctor  turned 
away  from  the  bed ;  for  he  too  saw  the  unmistak- 
able signs  of  the  dreaded  fever,  brought  on,  no 
doubt,  by  the  interview  with  Mr.  Lunt.  With  a 
sickening  dread,  he  turned  from  the  bed  to  the 
solemn  countenance  of  Dr.  St.  John ;  but  there 
was  no  consolation  from  that  quarter.  The  old 
doctor  went  on  with  his  compounding,  and  in  a  few 
minutes  rose,  glass  in  hand,  and  approached  the 
bed. 

"  Come,  my  boy,  we  must  reduce  that  fever  and 
check  its  progress,"  he  said  imperatively,  placing 
the  glass  to  Robert's  lips. 

The  glass  was  drained,  and  Robert  sank  back 
on  his  pillow  with  a  very  wry  face,  and  shortly 
after  dropped  into  a  light  slumber. 


CHAPTER  XXIII 
GRANDMA  BENT'S  CALL 

For  the  rest  of  the  day  an  air  of  solicitude  hung 
over  the  house.  Everyone  spoke  with  bated 
breath  and  tiptoed  over  the  heavy  carpets  as  if 
afraid  of  raising  the  faintest  sound.  Dr.  Craig 
positively  refused  to  leave  the  bedside  again  until 
late  in  the  afternoon,  when  Dr.  St.  John  insisted 
on  his  lying  down  for  an  hour's  sleep  to  freshen 
himself  for  his  night's  vigil. 

In  spite  of  all  the  doctor's  medical  skill  the 
fever  increased  with  marvelous  rapidity.  About 
two  o'clock  in  the  afternoon  Robert  began  to  rave ; 
and  the  burden  of  his  ravings  was,  "  Ruth !  Ruth ! 
the  light  of  my  life!  Why  do  you  shun  me?" 
The  doctors  listened  and  looked  into  each  other's 
faces  in  blank  amazement.  Neither  of  them  had 
ever  had  the  slightest  inkling  of  Robert's  heart 
story ;  and  the  knowledge  came  to  Dr.  Craig  with 
a  shock. 

In  his  delirium  he  pleaded  with  Grandma  Bent 
not  to  condemn  him  for  what  he  was  not  to  blame. 

"  You  know,  Grandma,  how  I  have  always 
loved  her!  I  will  never  marry  anyone  else,  no  mat- 
ter what  my  father  and  mother  say !  They  may 

373 


374      THE  SINS  OF  THE  FATHERS 

prevent  my  marrying  her,  but  they  can  never  com- 
pel me  to  marry  anyone  else.  Oh,  don't  say  no, 
Grandma !  Think  what  it  means  to  me !  " 

Dr.  St.  John  listened  to  the  ravings  until  he 
could  stand  it  no  longer;  so  leaving  Dr.  Craig  in 
attendance,  he  took  a  turn  in  the  hall.  With  his 
hands  clasped  behind  him  and  his  head  drooped 
on  his  breast,  he  paced  the  upper  end  of  the  long 
hall  several  times.  Finally,  taking  a  little  longer 
turn,  he  brought  up  at  the  head  of  the  wide  stair- 
way leading  to  the  lower  hall.  Hearing  voices 
below,  he  looked  down  and  was  overjoyed  to  see 
Grandma  Bent  standing  with  Mrs.  Cole's  hand  in 
hers,  on  the  point  of  taking  her  departure. 

After  the  death  of  Nell  Stanton  Mrs.  Bent  had 
remained  in  the  house  of  desolation  to  perform 
the  last  sad  offices  for  the  dead.  Word  was  car- 
ried to  Jack  Stanton,  the  only  living  relative  of 
the  unfortunate  woman ;  but  he  had  taken  a  freak 
of  righteous  umbrage  and  positively  refused  to 
acknowledge  the  relationship.  He  actually  dis- 
owned the  "  strumpet  and  her  murderous  off- 
spring " —  epithets  which  fell  from  his  tongue  with 
ill-considered  grace  on  the  ears  of  those  who  knew 
how  much  he  had  contributed  towards  the  ruin 
of  his  own  house.  His  refusal  to  do  his  duty  by 
his  kin  threw  the  burden  on  strangers. 

Then  it  was  that  Mark  Gibson  took  the  re- 
sponsibility on  himself,  and  with  the  help  of  Frank 
and  Mrs.  Bent  made  all  preparations  for  the  bur- 
ial of  both  Dick  and  Nell.  At  three  o'clock  in  the 


GRANDMA  BENT'S  CALL  375 

afternoon  of  the  next  day,  with  as  deep  a  show  of 
respectability  as  Mark  could  throw  around  the 
services,  the  two  were  laid  at  rest  side  by  side  in 
the  little  churchyard,  and  within  the  very  shadow 
of  the  stately  mausoleum  under  which  rested  the 
remains  of  Richard  Cole. 

The  curious  were  out  in  full  force;  and  though 
there  were  no  real  mourners,  a  few  tears  trickled 
down  the  withered  cheeks  of  Mrs.  Bent  out  of 
pure  sympathy  for  the  misspent  lives  which  had 
gone  out  so  tragically.  Frank  also  brushed  away 
a  suspicious  looking  moisture  from  his  eyes,  which 
threatened  to  overflow  in  tears.  But  they  would 
have  been  tears  of  thankfulness  rather  than  of 
mourning;  for  he  saw  how  much  better  off  both 
were  than  if  they,  or  either  of  them,  had  been 
left  to  face  the  ignominy  which  would  surely  have 
been  heaped  upon  the  head  of  the  innocent  and 
the  guilty  alike.  He  was  thankful,  too,  that  the 
cloud  which  had  hung  over  his  own  head  for  over 
two  years  had  at  last  been  lifted,  and  that  he 
could  take  up  his  life  work  again  with  a  light 
heart. 

Mark  Gibson,  too,  showed  a  spark  of  feeling 
as  he  stood  bareheaded  between  the  open  graves. 
It  would  be  difficult,  however,  to  analyze  his  emo- 
tions ;  for  there  was  a  strange  commingling  of 
pain  and  pleasure,  sorrow  and  rejoicing,  and 
thankfulness ;  and  it  would  be  hard  to  say  which 
predominated.  Perhaps  it  was  thankfulness,  for 
he  had  much  to  be  thankful  for.  He  was  at  last 


876      THE  SINS  OF  THE  FATHERS 

a  free  man.  For  twenty  years  he  had  stood  as 
a  stone  wall  between  these  two  clods  of  clay  and 
the  threatened  dishonor  of  a  family  name.  He 
had  grown  old  under  the  burden.  He  knew  that 
Nell  Stanton  had  justice  on  her  side;  but  Richard 
Cole  had  the  law  on  his.  But  what  is  justice 
when  opposed  by  law !  He  knew  the  frailty  of 
her  cause  and  counseled  patience ;  and  she  had 
been  guided  by  his  counsel.  But  it  was  all  over 
now ;  henceforth,  he  could  rest. 

As  Mrs.  Bent  and  Frank  were  leaving  the 
churchyard  after  the  burial,  she  told  Frank  to 
drive  up  to  Oakwood.  Mrs.  Cole  and  Bell  had 
both  written  to  her  and  Frank,  expressing  their 
pleasure  at  Frank's  completed  exoneration.  The 
letters  also  contained  a  hope  that  the  dead  past 
might  be  buried,  and  that  Mrs.  Bent  and  Frank 
might  see  their  way  clear  to  call  on  their  doubly 
afflicted  neighbors.  It  was  in  response  to  these 
letters  that  Mrs.  Bent  availed  herself  of  the  first 
moment  at  her  disposal  to  break  the  ice  which  had 
kept  the  two  families  apart  for  so  many  years ; 
and  for  the  first  time  in  her  life  to  cross  the 
threshold  of  Oakwood. 

She  had  made  her  call,  and  learning  of  the  se- 
rious turn  Robert  had  taken,  had  decided  not  to 
excite  him  further  by  even  going  up  to  look  at 
him;  and  she  was  just  on  the  point  of  taking  her 
departure  when  Dr.  St.  John  spied  her.  Frank 
was  on  the  veranda  talking  with  Mr.  Lunt. 

Dr.    St.   John,   wjth   the  distracting  words   of 


GRANDMA  BENT'S  CALL  377 

Robert  still  ringing  in  his  ears,  quickly  took  in 
the  situation.  The  butler  stood  with  the  door 
open,  waiting  for  the  dear  old  lady  to  pass  out, 
when  the  old  doctor  suddenly  pattered  down  the 
stairs  and  stepped  in  between ;  and  grasping  Mrs. 
Bent's  hand  in  his  usual  fussy  way,  said  in  a  little 
flurry  of  excitement, 

"  My  dear  Mrs.  Bent,  this  is  indeed  an  oppor- 
tune call.  I  want  you  to  come  right  upstairs  to 
see  Robert.  He  has  been  calling  for  you  for  the 
last  hour.  It's  a  case  of  life  or  death.  Come, 
Mrs.  Cole !  "  And  taking  the  trembling  hand  of 
the  old  lady  on  one  side  and  Mrs.  Cole's  on  the 
other,  he  tucked  one  under  each  arm  and  led  the 
way  up  the  broad  staircase  and  into  Robert's 
room.  Leaving  Mrs.  Cole  at  the  foot  of  the  bed, 
he  conducted  Mrs.  Bent  towards  the  head,  where 
Dr.  Craig  made  way  for  her. 

It  was  with  tottering  steps  and  tear-dimmed 
eyes  that  she  approached  the  bed  on  which  Robert 
lay  tossing  in  delirium,  and  sank  on  the  chair 
which  Dr.  Craig  had  placed  for  her.  With  half 
closed  eyes,  Robert  lay  as  the  doctor  had  left 
him,  still  pleading  for  Ruth.  She  placed  her  hand 
gently  on  his  where  it  lay  on  the  white  coverlet. 
Like  a  flash  his  eyes  flew  open;  his  fingers  closed 
convulsively  over  hers ;  and  a  smile  lighted  his 
fever-flushed  face. 

*'  I  knew  you  would  come  to  me,  Grandma ! " 
he  cried  exultingly.  "  I  knew  you  would  come 
when  you  learned  the  truth !  The  only  thing  that 


378      THE  SINS  OF  THE  FATHERS 

troubled  me  was  how  you  could  ever  believe  all 
that  twaddle  about  my  being  engaged  to  anyone 
else.  You  know  I  never  could  love  anyone  but 
Ruth !  Why,  Grandma,  I  loved  her  when  I  was 
only  a  little  shaver,  long  before  I  knew  what  love 
was.  When  I  shut  my  eyes  so,"  and  he  drooped 
his  lids  on  his  crimson  cheeks,  "  I  can  see  us  — 
her  and  me  —  waist-deep  in  the  daisy  field  —  I 
picking  the  daisies,  she  weaving  them  into  a  crown, 
that  I  might  place  it  on  her  head  and  call  her  my 
queen."  Then  his  eyes  flew  wide  open  again  and 
he  turned  a  look  of  adoration  on  her  face.  "  Oh, 
yes,  I  felt  in  my  soul  that  you  would  come  to  me 
sometime  and  tell  me  I  could  speak  to  Ruth  and 
ask  her  to  be  mine.  That  is  why  I  have  been  so 
patient  all  these  years !  " 

Dropping  into  a  chair  at  the  foot  of  the  bed 
Mrs.  Cole  buried  her  face  in  her  hands ;  while  the 
old  doctor  turned  away  with  moistened  eyes. 
Mrs.  Bent  bowed  her  head,  and  choking  back  her 
tears  with  an  effort,  she  placed  her  cool  hand  on 
his  hot  forehead  and  stroked  it  lovingly. 

"  Yes,  Robert,  dear,  I  have  come  to  give  you 
my  blessing ! "  she  said  evasively,  in  a  voice 
tremulous  with  emotion.  "  You  must  rest  now ; 
your  recovery  depends  on  it.  So  calm  yourself 
and  try  to  go  to  sleep." 

"  And  I  may  see  Ruth  ?  "  he  pleaded,  turning 
his  burning  eyes  full  on  her  face  as  if  he  would 
read  her  soul. 

She    raised    her   eyes    helplessly    to    the    tear- 


GRANDMA  BENT'S  CALL  379 

stained  face  of  his  mother,  who  had  risen  and  was 
now  standing  at  the  foot  of  the  bed,  nervously 
clutching  the  foot-rail  for  support,  and  sought 
her  answer. 

Dr.  St.  John,  who  had  been  visibly  affected  by 
the  scene,  now  laid  his  hand  on  Mrs.  Cole's  and 
whispered  something  to  her  as  he  nodded  ac- 
quiescently. Then  she  bowed  her  head  in  silent 
assent. 

"  Yes,  Robert,  you  may  see  Ruth,  if  you  will 
promise  to  obey  the  doctor's  orders  and  keep 
quiet  for  the  rest  of  the  day,"  she  replied  sooth- 
ingly. "  I  will  send  for  her  immediately ;  but  she 
is  some  distance  away  and  may  not  get  here  be- 
fore to-morrow  or  possibly  next  day.  Now  you 
must  go  to  sleep  and  rest  till  she  comes."  Press- 
ing a  kiss  on  his  forehead,  she  rose  to  go ;  for  she 
saw  how  exhausted  he  had  grown  within  the  last 
few  minutes. 

"  I  will,"  he  replied  resignedly,  as  though  deeply 
conscious  of  all  her  words  implied.  But  his  burn- 
ing gaze  followed  her  till  she  had  disappeared 
through  the  door.  Then  his  eyelids  drooped 
wearily  and  he  lapsed  into  a  semblance  of  sleep. 

But  what  of  Bell  all  this  time?  Having  re- 
covered somewhat  from  the  fright  and  embarrass- 
ment of  her  encounter  with  Dr.  Craig  in  the  dress- 
ing-room, she  had  staggered  out  and  across  the 
hall  to  her  own  room,  where  she  threw  herself, 
faint  and  almost  distracted  with  grief  and  morti- 
fication, on  the  bed. 


"  What  does  it  all  mean  ?  "  she  questioned  her- 
self when  she  had  gained  sufficient  composure  to 
think  in  a  rational  train.  "  Dr.  Craig  under 
surveillance  and  to  be  arrested  to-morrow  morn- 
ing for  murder!  And  Robert  has  known  it  for 
several  days ;  and  has  kept  that  hateful  Lunt  in 
the  house  as  his  guest  all  this  time !  "  Then  she 
sprang  from  the  bed  as  if  just  awakened  from  a 
terrible  nightmare  and  began  to  pace  the  floor. 

"  I  wonder  if  this  was  what  he  meant  to  tell  me 
Friday  night?"  she  soliloquized.  "Yes,  I  see  it 
all  now !  he  didn't  have  the  heart  to  tell  me.  He 
knew  it  would  hurt  me!  He  knew  my  heart  bet- 
ter than  I  myself  did.  And  I  have  been  so  cruel 
to  him!  But  what's  to  be  done?  Oh,  the  horror 
of  it  all !  I  shall  go  mad  if  I  cannot  find  some 
means  of  escape  for  Arthur !  He  shall  not  be  ar- 
rested, no  matter  what  the  consequence  may  be !  " 
And  then  in  sheer  exhaustion  she  threw  herself 
into  a  large  chair  and  gave  vent  to  a  flood  of 
tears. 

At  last  her  tears  were  spent  and  she  sat  up  dry- 
eyed,  looking  vacantly  into  space.  She  was  forc- 
ing herself  to  face  the  future  without  him.  All 
the  exquisite  happiness  of  the  past  year  and  a 
half  thrilled  painfully  through  her  veins ;  and  she 
wondered  how  she  could  live  were  he  to  go  out  of 
her  life.  Minutes  and  hours  fled  apace.  Still 
she  sat,  oblivious  to  all  the  world  except  her  own 
intense  suffering. 

Down  from  the  mantel  above  her  head  came  the 


GRANDMA  BENT'S  CALL  381 

tinkle  of  a  silvery-tongued  clock,  striking  the  hour 
of  ten  as  a  warning  of  the  flight  of  time.  Still 
she  sat  and  the  minutes  flew  by.  She  was  trying 
so  hard  to  find  a  way  of  escape  —  for  escape  he 
must.  But  in  spite  of  all  she  could  do  her  thought 
would  fly  off  at  a  tangent  and  upset  every  plan 
ere  it  was  fully  developed.  Her  temples  throbbed 
with  the  pain  of  her  endeavors  to  concentrate  her 
mind  on  any  one  course  of  action.  At  length,  in 
a  frenzy  of  despair,  she  sprang  to  her  feet  and 
rang  for  her  maid. 

An  hour  later  she  issued  from  her  room  dressed 
in  a  dainty  muslin  and  stole  softly  downstairs  in 
search  of  Mr.  Lunt.  She  found  him  on  the  front 
veranda,  seated  in  a  large  willow  chair,  her  broth- 
er's favorite  seat,  leisurely  puffing  a  cigar  in  an 
attitude  of  abandoned  enjoyment. 

"  I  fear  you  find  our  hospitality  rather  dull  and 
stupid,"  she  remarked  as  she  joined  him. 

"  My  dear  Miss  Cole,  is  it  not  rather  I  who 
should  apologize?  "  he  said,  rising  and  offering 
her  the  seat.  "  My  continued  presence  must  seem 
somewhat  intrusive  at  such  a  time  of  sorrow  and 
anxiety,"  he  went  on  when  she  did  not  answer, 
"  but  duty  leaves  me  no  alternative  than  to  re- 
main until  the  excitement  has  fully  died  out  in  the 
village." 

"  I  had  not  thought  of  your  presence  as  being 
intrusive,  Mr.  Lunt,"  she  replied  in  a  low,  almost 
a  sad  tone.  Then  looking  up  into  his  face  as  he 
placed  the  chair  for  her,  she  said  rather  pointedly, 


382      THE  SINS  OF  THE  FATHERS 

"  As  for  duty,  one  must  always  commend  a  con- 
scientious performance  of  duty  when  avarice  is 
not  the  incentive." 

He  winced  slightly  and  looked  at  her  with  a 
curious  gleam  in  his  eyes,  as  if  he  would  read  her 
meaning.  The  pale,  haggard  look  in  her  face 
startled  him. 

"  Pray  be  seated,  Miss  Cole,"  he  said  presently, 
putting  aside  the  suspicion  which  her  words  had 
aroused.  "  You  have  been  under  a  great  strain 
for  the  last  forty-eight  hours.  I  fear  you  are 
over-taxing  your  strength." 

"  No,  no,  Mr.  Lunt,  I  did  not  come  out  to  sit, 
or  to  rest.  I  want  air,  motion,  anything  that 
will  break  the  tragic  spell  that  seems  to  hang 
over  my  house !  Come  with  me  into  the  garden  !  " 

He  looked  at  her  in  amazement.  Her  manner 
struck  him  as  strange  and  irritable.  She  spoke 
rapidly,  almost  impatiently,  and  was  halfway 
down  the  steps  ere  she  had  finished  her  invitation. 

"  With  pleasure,"  he  replied,  taking  up  his 
hat  and  following  her  down  the  steps  and  on  to 
the  broad  path,  where  she  stood  waiting  for  him 
to  catch  up  to  her. 

"  Do  not  think  me  capricious,  Mr.  Lunt,"  she 
said  in  a  whimsical  tone  as  he  joined  her.  "  But 
I  simply  could  not  remain  in  the  shadow  of  the 
house  another  moment !  I  feel  cold  and  shivery 
and  want  to  get  into  the  sunshine." 

"  I  do  not  wonder  at  it,"  he  remarked,  as  he 


GRANDMA  BENT'S  CALL  383 

quickened  his  steps  to  keep  pace  with  her  flying 
feet. 

After  that  she  led  the  way  in  silence  to  the 
flower  garden  in  the  rear,  where  the  sun  shone 
down  in  splendor  over  a  wealth  of  autumn  bloom ; 
and  where  they  would  be  safe  from  any  chance 
eavesdropper.  Pushing  on  till  she  reached  the 
center,  she  paused  and  faced  him. 

"  Mr.  Lunt,"  she  said  abruptly,  "  do  I  under- 
stand rightly  that  Dr.  Craig  is  to  be  arrested  to- 
morrow morning?  "  Bell  was  no  diplomat.  She 
plunged  right  into  the  heart  of  her  subject. 

The  question  came  like  a  thunderbolt  out  of  a 
clear  sky  to  her  companion.  He  started,  frowned 
darkly,  and  with  an  oath  exclaimed: 

"  Then  he  has  betrayed  my  confidence !  " 

"  No,  he  has  not  betrayed  your  confidence,  if 
by  '  he  '  you  mean  Robert,"  she  declared  emphatic- 
ally. 

He  bit  his  lips  in  chagrin,  for  he  realized  that 
he  had  practically  admitted  the  charge;  and  he 
now  saw  how  useless  a  denial  would  be.  Yet  he 
vacillated. 

"  Miss  Cole,  I  fear  you  are  laboring  under  a 
flight  of  fancy,"  he  said  with  a  perceptible  stiffen- 
ing up  of  manner  and  voice. 

"  I  only  hope  you  can  prove  it  so,"  she  said 
sadly. 

"  Just  what  do  you  know  about  this  proposed 
arrest?  "  he  asked  abruptly  after  a  moment's  hesi- 


384.      THE  SINS  OF  THE  FATHERS 

tation,  during  which  time  he  had  studied  her  in- 
tently. 

"  Only  what  I  overheard  you  tell  Robert  this 
morning." 

"  You  overheard  me ! "  he  exclaimed  in  sur- 
prise. 

"  Yes." 

"  Where  were  you  ?  " 

"  In  the  room,  sitting  behind  the  screen  at  the 
head  of  the  bed,  opposite  to  where  you  sat.  I 
did  not  mean  to  listen ;  I  could  not  help  hearing 
what  you  said." 

"Were  you  alone?"  he  asked  eagerly. 

"  I  was." 

"  Ah  !  "  The  exclamation  seemed  to  relieve  his 
pent  up  feelings  and  to  relax  just  a  little  of 
his  assumed  authoritative  bearing.  Then  as  if 
another  thought  had  suddenly  occurred  to  him  he 
questioned,  "  Did  your  brother  know  you  were 
there  in  the  room?  " 

"  No.  He  was  asleep  when  I  took  up  my 
watch.  Your  entrance  wakened  him." 

This  explanation  appeared  to  satisfy  him,  for 
he  said  with  apparent  frankness, 

"  Since  you  have  heard  so  much,  perhaps  it 
were  well  that  you  understood  the  whole  affair, 
at  least  so  far  as  I  am  concerned  in  it." 

"  Yes,  yes,  but  first  tell  me  of  the  crime  —  the 
murder  of  which  he  is  charged,"  she  said  nerv- 
ously. "  You  see  I  am  totally  ignorant  of  every- 
thing pertaining  to  it." 


GRANDMA  BENT'S  CALL  385 

He  saw  the  strain  under  which  she  was  laboring 
and  hastened  to  relieve  her  suspense.  With  some 
slight  variations  he  took  up  the  story  of  the  trag- 
edy as  it  appeared  in  the  papers  on  the  very  day 
on  which  Dr.  Craig  had  so  mysteriously  dropped 
into  Coleville.  He  told  her  of  the  scouring  of 
three  continents  by  detectives;  of  the  big  reward 
offered  for  the  apprehension  of  the  murderer;  and 
of  his  own  accidental  recognition  of  Dr.  Craig 
on  the  previous  Friday  night. 

"  I  would  have  placed  him  under  arrest  then 
and  there,"  he  went  on  to  explain,  "  only  that  I 
knew  he  was  held  in  high  favor  by  your  family. 
Besides,  I  wanted  to  be  absolutely  sure  of  my 
man,  so  I  decided  to  wait  till  morning.  Mean- 
time, I  made  my  connecting  links  in  my  chain  of 
evidence,  and  then  called  on  your  brother  for  as- 
sistance. As  was  to  be  expected,  he  did  not  take 
kindly  to  the  accusation.  He  stoutly  defended  the 
doctor,  and  could  not  and  would  not  see  that  I 
had  the  right  man.  To  give  him  time  to  make 
some  investigations  on  his  own  account,  I  agreed 
to  hold  the  arrest  in  abeyance  until  Monday. 
But  as  subsequent  events  have  been  such  that  I 
dared  not  move  lest  I  should  add  to  the  excitement 
and  trouble  on  hand,  I  have  dallied  along  until 
I  have  about  exhausted  the  patience  of  my  men. 
Since  this  dilatoriness  can  not  last  forever,  I  shall 
make  the  arrest  to-morrow  morning  and  put  an 
end  to  it  all." 

A  deep  sigh,  more  like  a  sob,  escaped  from  be- 


386      THE  SINS  OF  THE  FATHERS 

tween  her  white,  closely-drawn  lips  as  he  finished 
speaking.  A  dull  sense  of  despair  had  gripped 
her  heart  as  the  story  of  the  crime  was  unfolded 
and  link  by  link  the  chains  were  forged  about  the 
man  she  loved  —  loved  better  than  her  life,  loved 
as  she  had  never  thought  herself  capable  of  lov- 
ing. Her  brain  throbbed  until  she  thought  it 
would  burst.  Her  limbs  tottered  beneath  her,  and 
staggering  to  a  rustic  bench  near  by,  she  sank 
upon  it,  while  a  sickening  fear  pervaded  her  whole 
being. 

Mr.  Lunt  pitied  her  and  almost  wished  that 
Fate  had  not  thrown  the  man  in  his  way.  But 
duty  was  duty,  so  he  argued  with  himself,  and 
appeased  any  qualm  of  conscience  that  arose. 
Then  again,  there  was  that  five  thousand  dollars 
reward,  a  too  highly  tempting  bait  to  be  lightly 
cast  aside  for  a  love-sick  maiden. 

"  Of  course  you  understand  this  is  to  be 
strictly  confidential ;  you  promise  not  to  inform 
your  friend  ?  "  he  half  questioned,  after  a  mo- 
mentary pause. 

With  a  look  of  abandoned  despair  she  raised 
her  eyes  to  his  face,  and  stretching  out  her  hands 
in  an  appealing  gesture,  she  implored, 

"  Have  pity,  Mr.  Lunt ;  wait  at  least  until  Rob- 
ert is  out  of  danger!  Surely  this  is  not  asking 
too  much  \ " 

"  It  is  out  of  my  power  to  grant  your  request," 
he  replied  with  a  positive  shake  of  his  head,  "  much 
as  I  should  like  to  help  you.  He  is  technically 


GRANDiMA  BENT'S  CALL  387 

under  arrest  at  this  present  moment,  and  I  am 
his  jailor.  The  proper  officers  will  be  here  early 
to-morrow  morning  to  take  him  in  charge." 

"  In  that  case,  I  shall  promise  nothing,"  she  re- 
plied in  a  voice  suddenly  grown  strong  with  re- 
sentment and  defiance.  She  rose  and  turned  to 
retrace  her  steps. 

"  Miss  Cole ! "  he  called  in  a  tone  so  stern  and 
authoritative  that  she  trembled  with  apprehension. 
She  paused  and  looked  sideways  at  him  from  over 
her  shoulder. 

"  You  understand,  I  presume,  that  any  attempt 
on  the  part  of  this  man  to  escape  will  be  met  with 
preventive  measures."  His  voice  contained  a  note 
of  warning  which  was  not  to  be  mistaken;  and  to 
make  it  more  impressive  he  drew  from  his  coat 
pocket  a  pair  of  heavy  wristers  of  glittering  steel. 
Twirling  and  jingling  these  on  his  long,  sinewy 
fingers  significantly  before  her  eyes,  he  walked 
towards  her.  This  was  the  poorest  stroke  of 
policy  he  could  have  adopted  to  gain  his  point. 

Isabell  Cole  was  shrewd  only  when  she  was  op- 
posed and  wanted  to  outwit  her  opposers.  At  the 
sight  of  these  instruments  of  torture  and  re- 
straint, she  covered  her  face  with  her  hands  and 
fled  precipitately  towards  the  house,  leaving  him 
to  follow  at  his  leisure. 

He  was  hardly  prepared  for  her  flight,  and  at 
first  it  annoyed  him;  but  the  more  he  thought  of 
it,  the  less  he  feared  her  betrayal  of  his  plans. 
At  any  rate,  he  was  placed  on  his  guard.  He 


would  watch  her.  In  this  frame  of  mind  he 
reached  the  house,  and  was  informed  of  the  un- 
favorable turn  of  Robert's  case. 

Meanwhile,  Bell  had  entered  the  house  by  the 
kitchen  door  and  passed  directly  up  to  her  room 
by  way  of  the  servants'  hall  without  meeting  any- 
one. On  reaching  her  own  room,  she  closed  the 
door  and  locked  it  behind  her,  and  stood  for  a 
moment,  faint  and  panting,  with  her  back  against 
it,  as  if  she  would  bar  out  the  world.  She  wanted 
to  be  alone  to  think.  When  she  recovered  her 
breath,  she  began  to  pace  the  floor  with  restless, 
impatient  steps.  Finally,  she  sat  down  at  her 
writing  desk  and  began  to  write  rapidly.  One, 
two,  three  notes  were  written  and  each  was  torn 
into  tiny  bits  and  consigned  to  the  waste  basket. 
A  fourth  was  written  and  read  several  times,  then 
folded  and  placed  in  an  envelope  and  sealed.  This 
was  carefully  tucked  in  the  bosom  of  her  dress 
as  she  rose  and  again  took  up  her  restless  pacing. 
Presently  her  mother  rapped  for  admittance  and 
Bell  opened  the  door. 

"  O  Bell,  where  have  you  kept  yourself  all  morn- 
ing? "  wailed  Mrs.  Cole,  as  she  entered  the  room. 
"  Do  you  know  that  the  doctors  are  quite  alarmed 
about  Robert?  And  only  think  what  would  be- 
come of  us  if  he  should  die !  "  And  she  buried  her 
face  in  her  handkerchief  and  wept. 

Bell  placed  her  arms  tenderly  round  her  mother 
and  led  her  to  a  divan,  on  which  she  sank  and  drew 
her  mother  down  beside  her.  Bell  did  not  speak. 


GRANDMA  BENT'S  CALL  389 

She  was  too  full  of  grief  herself  to  be  of  much  com- 
fort to  her  mother.  She  could  only  press  the  dear 
head  against  her  bosom  and  stroke  it  gently. 
Even  this  was  more  than  her  pent  up  feelings 
could  long  endure,  for  there  are  limits  to  all  things 
human.  Bravely  she  fought  against  the  rising 
rebellion  of  her  own  soul;  but  all  to  no  purpose, 
and  presently  she  too  burst  into  tears. 

For  sometime  mother  and  daughter  wept 
hysterically  together,  though  neither  could 
fathom  the  depth  of  the  other's  anguish  of  spirit. 
Mrs.  Cole  was  totally  ignorant  of  Bell's  love  for 
Dr.  Craig,  or  of  his  impending  doom;  while  Bell 
could  hardly  realize  the  critical  condition  of  Rob- 
ert. Fortunately,  the  maid  entered  and  brought 
both  to  a  sense  of  their  obligations  by  announcing 
that  lunch  was  waiting. 

"  Come,  dear,"  said  her  mother,  rising  and  draw- 
ing Bell  up  with  her,  "  you  must  go  down  and  take 
my  place  and  excuse  me  to  Mr.  Lunt  and  the  doc- 
tor." 

Bell  obeyed  without  a  murmur.  She  bathed 
her  face  and  removed  all  traces  of  tears  and  tried 
to  calm  the  tumult  of  her  heart.  On  her  way  to 
lunch,  she  stepped  into  the  sick  chamber  to  see 
for  herself  whether  her  mother  had  not  exagger- 
ated the  seriousness  of  Robert's  ill  turn. 

Dr.  Craig  sat  alone  by  the  bedside,  holding  Rob- 
ert's throbbing  wrist  in  a  light  grasp  and  watch- 
ing intently  the  heavy  breathing  of  the  wounded 
man.  As  Bell  approached  the  bed,  the  doctor 


390      THE  SINS  OF  THE  FATHERS 

raised  his  eyes;  but  he  did  not  change  his  posi- 
tion, nor  did  he  speak.  She  met  his  gaze  with  a 
silent  inquiry ;  to  which  he  nodded  a  reply ;  then 
both  turned  their  attention  to  the  flushed  face 
on  the  pillow.  Through  a  mist  of  tears  she  gazed 
long  and  reverently  on  that  well-beloved  face, 
while  all  the  happy  years  of  their  childhood  rose 
like  a  beautiful  vision  from  the  depths  of  her  mem- 
ory. 

A  few  seconds  passed.  The  doctor  released  the 
wrist  of  his  patient,  and  rising,  stepped  to  the 
foot  of  the  bed  and  stood  beside  her.  He  seemed 
to  wait  for  her  to  speak.  But  she  had  neither 
the  heart  nor  the  voice  to  break  the  stillness  of 
the  chamber.  Glancing  stealthily  around  to  make 
sure  they  were  alone,  she  drew  the  note  from  her 
bosom  and  slipped  it  into  his  hand  and  then 
turned  and  glided  hastily  from  the  room  and  down- 
stairs to  the  dining-room  where  the  old  doctor  and 
Mr.  Lunt  were  already  seated  at  the  table. 


CHAPTER  XXIV 
THE  ARREST 

After  lunch,  which  passed  off  in  comparative 
silence,  Bell  returned  to  her  room.  Fatigued  in 
body  and  spirit,  she  knew  not  where  to  seek  rest 
or  comfort.  It  seemed  to  her  that  time  never 
dragged  so  slowly  before.  But  the  longest  day 
has  an  end;  and  so  at  last,  all  her  restless  hours 
of  waiting  ended  when  a  light  rap  roused  her  from 
a  dreamy  reverie.  With  a  beating  heart  she 
sprang  to  her  feet  and  hastened  to  open  the  door. 
A  frightened  look  came  into  her  eyes  when  she 
beheld  Dr.  Craig  standing  before  her;  though  it 
was  evident  he  was  expected,  for  she  whispered: 

"  Is  the  coast  clear?  " 

He  nodded  in  the  affirmative. 

"  Come  in ! "  she  whispered  in  trembling  tones, 
taking  hold  of  his  coat  sleeve  and  pulling  him  in- 
side. Then  she  closed  the  door,  and  turning  the 
key,  she  planked  her  back  against  the  door  and 
faced  him.  For  a  moment  her  courage  seemed  to 
fail  her.  Her  face  flushed  scarlet;  her  eyes 
sought  the  floor ;  and  her  head  sank  on  her  breast, 
as  she  stood  abashed  before  him. 

"  You  wanted  to  see  me  on  a  matter  of  im- 

391 


THE  SINS  OF  THE  FATHERS 

portance?"  he  questioned  in  order  to  relieve  her 
embarrassment. 

At  the  sound  of  his  voice  her  courage  returned ; 
and  throwing  her  head  back  proudly,  she  replied, 

"I  do ;  and  I  presume  you  understand  what 
that  matter  is." 

"  Then  you  presume  too  much,  for  I  have  not 
the  slightest  idea,"  he  answered  with  a  coolness 
that  gave  her  a  chill. 

She  eyed  him  for  a  moment  with  a  puzzled  air, 
as  if  at  a  loss  how  to  proceed. 

"  You  overheard  what  Mr.  Lunt  said  to  Rob- 
ert this  morning?  "  she  ventured. 

"  Partly,"  he  replied.  "  I  heard  only  the  last 
few  words." 

"Then  —  you  —  do  not  —  know?"  she  stam- 
mered. 

"Know  what?"  he  asked,  looking  at  her  with 
a  quizzical  air. 

"  That  you  —  are  to  be  —  arrested  ?  "  she 
panted,  bracing  herself  more  firmly  against  the 
door. 

"  That  I  am  to  be  arrested  ? "  he  repeated 
slowly,  with  the  utmost  sang-froid.  "  For  what, 
pray?" 

"  For  —  murder !  "  she  gasped,  gazing  at  him 
with  a  look  of  horror  in  her  eyes. 

He  gave  a  short,  low  laugh,  which  curdled  the 
blood  in  her  veins. 

"  Come,  this  is  some  kind  of  joke,"  he  said  at 


THE  ARREST  393 

length,  controlling  his  laughter  and  smiling  down 
at  her. 

"  Then  it  is  not  true !  You  can  prove  your 
innocence? "  she  cried,  growing  more  agitated 
every  moment.  "  Only  tell  me  you  are  not  guilty 
of  this  terrible  crime  and  I  shall  not  care  what 
else  they  say ! "  She  seemed  like  one  suddenly 
bereft  of  her  senses ;  and  so  indeed  thought  the 
tloctor  as  she  clutched  his  arm  in  the  abandon- 
ment of  her  grief. 

Subdued  by  the  sight  of  her  distress,  he 
caught  her  hands  in  both  his  own  and  held  them 
firmly  and  gazed  into  her  wild  eyes  in  silence,  as 
it  suddenly  dawned  upon  him  that  after  all,  while 
Ruth  had  fascinated  him  for  the  time  being,  it  was 
Bell  whom  he  loved  with  all  the  passion  of  his  soul. 
He  tried  to  collect  his  wits  as  to  what  was  best  to 
be  done.  He  realized  the  delicacy  of  his  position, 
and  wished  to  make  no  false  move  at  the  present. 
He  knew  now  that  she  loved  him  well  enough  to 
make  any  sacrifice  for  him,  and  he  longed  to  fold 
her  in  his  arms  as  his  very  own ;  but  this  was 
neither  the  time  nor  the  place.  He  must  guard 
himself  and  her. 

"  You  must  leave  Coleville  somehow  before 
morning ! "  she  broke  out  afresh,  having  mistaken 
his  long  silence  for  a  confession  of  guilt.  "  I  have 
found  out  that  the  house  and  grounds  are  guarded ; 
but  I  can  cheat  the  guards  and  find  a  way  for  you 
to  escape  if  you  will  only  trust  me.  Oh,  why  did 


394      THE  SINS  OF  THE  FATHERS 

you  do  it ! "  she  cried  despairingly.  Then  in  a 
more  sympathizing  tone  she  continued :  "  But 
you  did  not  mean  to  kill  him,  did  you?  " 

He  winced  at  this,  turned  a  trifle  pale,  and 
tightened  his  hold  more  firmly  on  her  hands ;  but 
he  did  not  speak. 

**  I  know  it  was  an  accident ! "  she  went  on 
breathlessly,  "  for  you  are  too  kind-hearted  to 
commit  willfully  such  a  horrible  deed!  But  they 
shall  not  arrest  you !  I  will  save  you  if  you  will 
only  let  me ! "  The  tears  welled  to  her  beautiful 
eyes  as  she  endeavored  to  win  his  confidence, 
blinding  her  to  the  look  of  agony  on  his  face. 
She  seemed  wholly  unconscious  of  the  fact  that 
every  word  she  uttered  pierced  his  soul  like  a 
barbed  wire. 

The  sight  of  her  tearful  eyes  and  the  distress 
on  her  face  was  more  than  he  could  bear;  and 
throwing  discretion  to  the  winds,  he  folded  her 
in  his  arms  and  pressed  her  close  to  his  heart. 
Gazing  into  her  tear-brimmed  eyes,  he  asked  in 
a  trembling  voice, 

"  Would  you  really  care,  darling,  if  I  should 
be  arrested  and  hanged  for  this  awful  crime  you 
speak  of  ?  " 

"  You  know  I  would  care ! "  she  cried,  as  her 
arms  stole  round  his  neck  and  drew  his  face  down 
close  to  her  own.  "  You  know  it  would  kill  me ! 
But  they  shall  not  arrest  you !  You  will  let  me 
help  you ;  you  will  trust  me ;  you  will  go  ?  "  she 
pleaded. 


THE  ARREST  395 

"  Bless  you,  my  angel ! "  he  whispered  tenderly, 
pressing  her  closer,  while  showering  warm  kisses 
on  her  cheeks  and  lips,  and  stroking  her  hair  with 
a  caressing  touch.  "  I  would  trust  you  to  the 
end  of  the  world !  You  shall  save  me,  if  you  will ; 
but  not  by  assisting  me  to  escape  the  just  punish- 
ment of  my  past  misdeeds.  Let  Lunt  make  the 
arrest.  It  will  break  the  silence  under  which  I 
am  bound.  Then,  if  you  still  love  me — " 

A  rap  on  the  door  startled  them.  She  pushed 
him  towards  her  dressing-room  door. 

"  Go !  "  she  commanded  in  a  frightened  whisper. 
"  I  shall  see  you  again,"  she  continued  as  she 
pointed  the  way  out  of  her  dressing-room  into  the 
side  hall.  Then  she  hastened  back  to  the  door 
and  opened  it. 

"  O  Bell,  why  do  you  keep  yourself  shut  up 
in  your  room  when  I  need  you  so  much?"  re- 
proached her  mother  as  she  brushed  past  her  into 
the  room.  "  Mrs.  Bent  and  Frank  have  been 
here.  They  inquired  for  you  and  wished  to  be 
remembered  to  you.  Mrs.  Bent  is  going  to  send 
for  Ruth;  Robert  wants  to  see  her." 

"  Going  to  send  for  Ruth ! "  murmured  Bell  as 
in  a  daze,  dropping  into  a  deep  easy-chair  to  hide 
her  agitation.  "  Why,  where  is  she  ?  " 

"  She  is  visiting  her  father  somewhere  up  in 
New  Hampshire." 

"How  long  has  she  been  gone?"  asked  Bell 
faintly. 

"  Since    last    Saturday,"    replied    her    mother. 


396      THE  SINS  OF  THE  FATHERS 

She  then  proceeded  to  tell  all  that  had  taken  place 
in  Robert's  room  as  well  as  her  broken  spirit 
would  permit. 

Bell  listened  like  one  in  a  dream.  She  had  no 
heart  to  oppose  anything  Robert  might  wish.  In 
fact,  she  rather  rejoiced  at  what  had  been  done. 
She  felt  that  she  could  welcome  Ruth  with  open 
arms  as  in  those  days  of  their  happy  childhood. 
She  even  wondered  how  she  had  ever  sided  in  with 
her  father  in  his  opposition  to  Robert's  choice. 
But  what  puzzled  her  most  was  the  visit  of 
Grandma  Bent. 

Mrs.  Cole  was  too  full  of  her  own  anxieties  and 
sorrows  to  notice  anything  out  of  the  ordinary 
in  the  looks  and  behavior  of  Bell.  She  was 
pleased  that  Bell  had  taken  the  news  so  resignedly 
when  she  had  expected  a  storm.  When  she  saw 
no  opposition  forthcoming,  she  laid  Bell's  quiet 
acquiescence,  if  she  thought  of  it  at  all,  to  Bell's 
great  sisterly  love  and  anxiety  for  Robert.  She 
had  not  long  to  ponder  the  matter  either  way,  for 
presently  Judge  Gray  sent  up  his  card,  and  she 
went  down  to  receive  him,  leaving  Bell  once  more 
alone  with  her  own  thoughts  and  perplexities. 

As  soon  as  her  mother  had  gone,  Bell  covered 
her  face  with  her  hands  in  shame  and  humiliation. 
What  had  she  done!  It  had  swept  over  her  soul 
like  an  avalanche  that  she  had  thrown  herself  into 
the  arms  of  a  man  who  had  never,  even  by  so 
much  as  a  look,  shown  that  he  cared  for  her  be- 
yond that  of  a  common  friendship.  As  she  tried 


THE  ARREST  397 

to  think  just  what  she  had  said  and  done,  she 
seemed  to  feel  the  warm  kisses  on  her  lips  and  the 
pressure  of  his  strong  arms  about  her;  and  a  sud- 
den thrill  of  exquisite  delight  quivered  through 
her  whole  being  with  the  memory  of  those  mo- 
ments. Oh,  the  joy  of  it;  and  oh,  the  pain  of 
it!  She  pressed  her  hand  over  her  heart  to  stop 
its  unruly  beating. 

After  a  while  she  grew  more  tranquil  and  set 
her  fertile  brain  to  work  to  devise  means  of  es- 
cape for  the  man  she  loved.  There  were  no 
doubts  in  her  mind  now  about  his  having  com- 
mitted the  deed.  For  had  he  not  practically  ad- 
mitted it?  But  her  heart  made  all  sorts  of  ex- 
cuses for  him.  There  were,  she  knew,  some  rea- 
sons which  he  could  explain,  if  he  only  would, 
which  would  exonerate  him  in  the  eyes  of  the 
world,  if  not  in  the  eyes  of  the  law.  But  the  law 
was  inexorable;  the  law  had  no  heart,  no  pity,  no 
commiseration ;  the  law  would  not  palliate  the  ac- 
cused ;  it  would  only  look  at  the  deeds  as  done 
in  cold  blood  and  condemn  the  perpetrator.  No, 
she  saw  nothing  to  be  hoped  from  the  law.  So  far 
as  she  could  see,  nothing  could  save  him  from  a 
felon's  fate  but  flight ;  and  she  racked  her  brain 
to  concoct  a  scheme  to  outwit  Mr.  Lunt  and  his 
sleuths  who  were  guarding  the  house  at  every 
available  exit. 

About  nine  o'clock  that  night  a  telegram  came 
from  Ruth.  Bell  received  the  messenger  at  the 
door  and  signed  the  receipt.  Tearing  the  en- 


398      THE  SINS  OF  THE  FATHERS 

velope,  she  drew  forth  the  message  and  read  it ; 
and  instantly  her  fertile  brain  conceived  a  way  out 
of  her  difficulty.  With  little  ado  she  controlled 
herself  and  entered  the  parlor  where  Mrs.  Cole 
was  making  an  effort  to  entertain  Mr.  Lunt,  and 
read  the  message  aloud  to  her  mother.  Ruth  was 
coming  on  the  midnight  train,  so  Bell  read  the 
message.  Then  she  and  her  mother  fell  to  dis- 
cussing Ruth's  coming.  Mr.  Lunt  rose  to  leave 
the  room,  impelled,  no  doubt,  by  a  sense  of  deli- 
cacy. 

"  No,  no,  Mr.  Lunt,  you  need  not  go ! "  inter- 
posed Bell  with  a  wave  of  her  hand.  "  There  is 
nothing  private  about  this  matter ;  besides,  I  may 
have  to  call  on  you  for  escort  duty." 

"  In  that  case  I  am  at  your  service,"  replied 
Mr.  Lunt  with  a  bow,  and  he  dropped  back  into 
his  comfortable  seat. 

"  You  see,"  explained  Bell  in  the  sweetest  and 
suavest  manner  at  her  command,  "  this  young 
lady  is  a  very  dear  friend  of  my  brother,  and  she 
is  to  arrive  on  the  midnight  train.  Of  course  I 
feel  in  duty  bound  to  meet  her  at  the  depot.  Un- 
der present  conditions,  I  would  hardly  dare  to  go 
alone.  Would  it  be  asking  too  much  of  you  to 
go  with  me?  " 

*'  I  can  assure  you  I  shall  deem  it  a  great 
pleasure  to  be  allowed  that  honor,"  he  said  gal- 
lantly, bowing  deeply. 

Bell  waited  to  hear  no  more. 

"  I  will  take  this  up  and  read  it  to  Robert,  if 


THE  ARREST  399 

the  doctor  will  let  me,"  she  said  as  she  left  the 
room  with  the  open  telegram  in  her  hand.  Her 
pace  slackened  in  the  hall.  She  did  not  seem  to 
be  in  such  a  great  hurry  as  her  manner  indicated 
when  she  left  the  room.  Up  the  stairs  she  moved 
slowly,  crumpling  the  telegram  in  her  hands  and 
finally  thrusting  the  wad  in  her  bosom.  Un- 
fortunately, under  the  excitement  of  her  overween- 
ing confidence,  she  forgot  the  looseness  of  her 
gown  ;  and  the  possibility  of  the  crushed  telegram's 
slipping  down  never  dawned  upon  her  mind. 

Robert's  condition  had  changed  for  the  better 
since  the  visit  of  Mrs.  Bent.  Although  he  was 
still  restless,  the  fever  had  subsided  materially ; 
and  the  wounds  were  doing  as  well  as  could  be 
expected.  He  was  sleeping  quietly  when  Bell  tip- 
toed into  the  room  and  stood  for  a  moment  at 
the  bedside,  gazing  down  on  his  drawn  face. 

Dr.  Craig,  who  had  kept  an  almost  sleepless 
vigil  over  the  wounded  man,  had  risen  when  she 
approached  the  bed  and  stood  beside  her.  Neither 
spoke.  She  did  not  even  look  at  him  as  she 
slipped  a  note  into  his  hand,  unobserved  by  the 
old  doctor,  who  nodded  drowsily  in  an  arm-chair 
at  the  opposite  side  of  the  bed.  Then  she  turned 
and  swept  swiftly  and  noiselessly  from  the  room. 

She  paused  at  the  head  of  the  stairs  and 
pressed  her  hands  tightly  over  her  palpitating 
heart  as  if  she  would  stay  its  turbulent  beating 
ere  she  descended  to  the  parlor  below.  After  a 
moment's  delay  she  passed  down  the  stairs  and 


400      THE  SINS  OF  THE  FATHERS 

met  her  mother  and  Mr.  Lunt  with  the  demure- 
ness  of  a  saint,  and  reported  that  Robert  was 
asleep  and  she  could  not  disturb  him. 

Half  an  hour  later  Mr.  Lunt  excused  himself 
to  go  to  his  room,  saying  that  he  would  be  ready 
in  time  to  accompany  Bell  to  the  train  to  meet 
her  friend.  He  left  them  and  ascended  the  great 
hall  stairs  in  a  very  peculiar  frame  of  mind ;  for 
somehow,  he  had  begun  to  distrust  Bell.  He  was 
well  informed  of  her  infatuation  for  the  doctor, 
and  he  had  begun  to  ask  himself  the  question: 
"  What  would  a  woman  of  Bell  Cole's  temperament 
not  do  for  the  man  she  loves?"  At  the  top  of 
the  stairs  his  eyes  fell  on  a  small  wad  of  yellow 
paper.  Thinking  it  had  been  dropped  by  the 
servant,  he  picked  it  up  and  carried  it  in  his  hand 
to  his  room  with  the  intention  of  throwing  it  into 
the  waste  basket.  But  as  Fate  would  have  it,  he 
flung  it  on  the  table  instead,  where  it  lay  unno- 
ticed for  sometime. 

With  hands  clasped  behind  him,  he  walked  the 
floor  in  a  deep  study  for  a  short  while,  then 
dropped  into  a  chair  with  a  fretful,  impatient  air 
by  the  side  of  the  table.  One  arm  rested  on  the 
table,  the  other  on  the  arm  of  the  chair.  Sitting 
thus,  absorbed  in  the  details  of  the  business  at 
hand,  his  eyes  caught  sight  of  the  yellow  ball  on 
the  table.  Taking  it  in  his  fingers,  he  toyed  with 
it  in  a  preoccupied  way  for  awhile,  throwing  it 
up  and  catching  it  as  it  fell  or  bounded  on  the 
table.  Tiring  of  this  light  sport,  he  straightened 


THE  ARREST  401 

out  the  rumples,  and  smoothed  the  crinkled  paper 
in  a  mechanical  sort  of  way.  Then,  as  a  mat- 
ter of  course,  he  glanced  casually  at  the  writ- 
ten message.  As  he  did  so,  he  started  and  sat  up 
straight  with  a  bound  and  re-read  it.  A  crafty 
look  came  into  his  eyes  and  an  artful  smile 
wreathed  his  thick  lips  as  he  ran  over  the  words 
for  the  third  time;  for  the  message  read: 

"  Will  arrive  on  the  6.30  train  in  the  morning, 
Ruth." 

Throwing  his  head  back,  he  laughed  a  low,  sar- 
donic laugh  and  chuckled  to  himself, 

"  So,  so,  the  midnight  train?  Luck  is  still  with 
me !  "  Having  relieved  himself  thus,  he  folded  the 
tell-tale  telegram  and  placed  it  carefully  away  in 
his  vest  pocket.  Then  he  rose,  walked  to  the  win- 
dow, and  raised  it. 

The  night  was  clear,  calm,  and  warm.  The 
moon  rode  in  splendor  above  the  hills  and  shed 
a  soft  radiance  over  the  earth.  He  took  a  cigar 
from  his  pocket,  lit  it,  and  seating  himself  by  the 
open  window,  began  to  breathe  volumes  of  white 
smoke  from  between  his  closed  lips  with  the  air 
of  a  self-satisfied  man. 

While  Mr.  Lunt  was  rejoicing  in  his  chamber 
over  his  streak  of  good  luck,  Bell  was  walking  the 
floor  in  hers,  equally  jubilant  over  the  outlook 
for  the  success  of  her  little  scheme  to  outwit  this 
wily  detective.  She  had  gone  to  her  room  almost 


immediately  after  he  had  gone  up  to  his.  And 
here  she  was  staking  her  chances  blindly,  and 
playing  at  cross-purposes  with  Fate. 

Although  she  was  somewhat  harassed  by  doubts 
as  to  how  far  the  doctor  would  lend  himself  to  her 
scheme,  she  laughed  to  herself  as  she  thought  of 
how  easily  she  had  thrown  the  dust  in  the  sharp 
eyes  of  Mr.  Lunt.  Now  if —  Ah,  that  little 
"  if !  "  A  light  tap  on  the  door  of  her  dressing- 
room  startled  her  from  her  reverie.  Hastening  to 
open  it,  she  admitted  the  doctor,  whom  she  had 
evidently  been  expecting.  She  closed  the  door 
softly  behind  him,  and  while  turning  the  key,  asked 
abruptly  in  a  voice  thrilling  with  emotion, 

"  Well,  what  have  you  decided?  " 

"  Nothing  as  yet,"  he  answered  calmly. 

"  But  you  must  decide  quickly,"  she  almost 
gasped,  pressing  her  hand  over  her  heart  in  a 
spasm  of  pain.  "  I  have  made  all  the  plans ;  you 
must  go !  " 

"  And  what  are  the  plans  ?  "  he  asked  in  a  tired 
voice,  as  if  they  were  not  of  the  slightest  con- 
cern to  him. 

"  Why,  simply  this,"  she  replied  in  an  under- 
tone. "  Ruth  Bent  is  supposed  to  arrive  on  the 
midnight  train  and  I  am  to  meet  her  at  the  sta- 
tion. You  must  drive  over  with  me  as  my  escort, 
and  when  the  train  comes  in,  you  must  board  it, 
ostensibly  to  assist  Ruth,  but  in  reality  to  remain 
on  the  train  and  be  carried  off." 

He  burst  into  a  merry  laugh.     She  looked  about 


THE  ARREST  403 

in  terror  and  held  up  a  warning  hand.  He 
clapped  his  hand  over  his  mouth  and  tried  to  con- 
trol his  mirth.  While  his  eyes  fairly  twinkled 
with  fun,  he  asked, 

"  But  have  you  reckoned  with  our  interested 
friend,  Mr.  Lunt?  " 

"  Yes,  and  if  you  leave  him  entirely  to  me,  I 
can  manage  him  to  perfection.  His  blinders  are 
on  already,"  she  said  with  a  knowing  toss  of  her 
head. 

"  And  you  really  think  I  can  escape  so  easily  ?  " 
he  asked  in  a  tone  of  smothered  laughter,  looking, 
as  she  thought,  a  trifle  more  serious. 

"  If  you  follow  my  instructions  and  leave  all 
arrangements  to  me  you  can  not  fail,"  she  replied 
with  all  the  confidence  she  could  muster;  though 
it  was  evident  she  was  piqued  at  his  hilarity  over 
such  a  serious  matter. 

"  Then  it's  a  go ! "  he  whispered  in  a  half  play- 
ful vein.  "  Into  thy  hands  I  commit  myself  for 
better  or  for  worse.  If  it  comes  out  better  than 
I  expect,  well  and  good ;  if  worse,  I  die  game ! " 

She  seemed  relieved  at  his  consent,  though  she 
saw  it  was  given  with  some  reluctance.  She  felt 
as  if  a  burden  had  been  suddenly  lifted  from  her 
mind.  A  new  light  came  into  her  eyes  as  she  hur- 
riedly gave  him  the  necessary  instructions  for  his 
guidance  in  the  project  on  hand;  to  all  of  which 
he  listened  in  drowsy  silence.  When  she  had  fin- 
ished she  bade  him  go  and  make  his  preparations 
and  report  in  the  lower  hall  at  eleven  o'clock. 


404      THE  SINS  OF  THE  FATHERS 

But  the  best  laid  plans  often  go  awry.  So  Bell 
was  soon  to  see  all  her  schemes  come  to  naught, 
and  learn  to  her  consternation  and  dismay,  that, 
instead  of  rendering  help,  she  had  only  hastened 
the  climax. 

He  left  her  presence  in  a  peculiar  frame  of  mind 
and  went  directly  to  the  room  which  had  been  as- 
signed for  his  use  during  his  stay  in  the  house. 
He  was  dead  tired  and  sadly  in  need  of  rest. 
Over  thirty-six  hours  had  passed  since  he  had 
closed  his  eyes  in  sleep.  As  he  entered  the  room 
a  luxurious  divan  set  at  a  tempting  angle  in  one 
corner  of  the  room,  caught  his  eye.  He  drew  out 
his  watch  and  glanced  at  it.  It  was  not  yet  ten 
o'clock.  He  yawned  and  turned  a  covetous  glance 
on  the  divan.  Suppose  he  should  lie  down  and 
rest  for  an  hour,  would  he  not  still  have  time 
enough  in  which  to  prepare  for  this  midnight 
journey?  With  this  question  beating  hazily 
through  his  brain,  he  reached  the  divan,  and 
stretching  himself  wearily  at  full  length  on  its 
downy  cushions,  he  lay  for  sometime  with  closed 
eyes.  Oh,  the  luxury  of  such  relaxation !  The 
world  with  all  its  joys  and  sorrows,  loves  and 
hates,  aspirations  and  intrigues  seemed  so  far 
away.  He  could  feel  the  lethargy  of  sleep  softly 
creeping  over  his  limbs  and  senses.  That  he  was 
fast  drifting  into  forgetfulness  he  seemed  to  real- 
ize, though  his  brain  still  retained  its  power  to 
visualize  certain  facts,  with  distinctness.  Sud- 
denly his  eyes  flew  open  and  springing  bolt  up- 


THE  ARREST  405 

right,  as  wide-awake  as  if  he  had  had  a  whole 
night's  repose,  he  glanced  nervously  about  the 
room.  He  rose  from  the  divan,  walked  over  to  the 
table;  and  throwing  himself  into  a  large  morris- 
chair,  he  clasped  his  hands  behind  his  head  and 
gazed  absently  up  at  the  ceiling. 

"  I  wonder  if  it  would  not  be  better,  after  all, 
for  me  to  stay  and  face  it  out,"  he  soliloquized. 
"  Sooner  or  later  it  must  happen.  Why  not  now  ? 
I  think  I  can  establish  my  innocence  so  far  as  the 
murder  theory  is  concerned.  But  dash  it  all,  the 
other  part  is  an  ugly  affair  and  sure  to  create 
a  disagreeable  sensation  among  those  whom  I  have 
learned  to  love,  and  who  have  learned  to  love  me, 
and  to  trust  me.  No  matter  how  the  case  goes, 
it's  an  ugly  piece  of  business.  I  wonder  what  has 
become  of  Jones  and  Smith,  and  if  it  would  be 
possible  for  me  to  find  them  ?  And  if  I  should  find 
them,  how  far  would  they  be  willing  to  implicate 
themselves  to  save  me?  Ha,  ha,  ha!  As  if  any 
sane  man  would  do  such  a  fool  thing  as  to  in- 
criminate himself  to  save  another!" 

Suddenly  the  laugh  died  on  his  lips;  his  jaw 
relaxed ;  his  cheeks  blanched ;  and  his  eyes  dilated 
with  horror. 

"  My  God ! "  he  aspirated,  as  a  horrible  sus- 
picion seemed  to  dawn  upon  his  mind.  "  Can  it 
be  possible  that  those  rascals  committed  a  mur- 
der and  duped  me!  What  a  confounded  idiot  I 
have  been  not  to  have  thought  of  such  a  possibil- 
ity before!  If  it  should  be  so,  how  could  I  meet 


4»06      THE  SINS  OF  THE  FATHERS 

a  charge  of  murder?  Everything  would  be 
against  me !  I  could  tell  my  story ;  but  who  would 
believe  it?  No  one  who  ever  knew  me  before  I 
came  here;  and  certainly  no  one  here  after  they 
had  found  out  some  features  of  my  past  life  would 
take  any  stock  in  my  tale.  And  I  can  hope  for 
nothing  from  Norman.  Ah,  those  wasted  years  !  " 
he  went  on  bitterly ;  "  what  would  I  not  give  to 
recall  them !  " 

He  buried  his  face  in  his  hands  and  remained 
silent  for  a  brief  space  of  time.  Then  he  moaned 
aloud  and  broke  forth  afresh. 

"  And  Bell,  poor,  dear  girl !  how  can  I  ever  re- 
quite you  for  all  your  wasted  affections ;  for  all 
those  gentle  acts  of  kindness ;  and  for  this  last 
great  proof  of  your  unselfish  love  for  so  unworthy 
an  object.  Though  I  did  not  mean  that  you 
should  learn  to  love  me,  the  thought  of  your  love 
is  the  one  sweet  drop  in  this  cup  of  bitterness ! " 

The  clock  struck  eleven.  He  sprang  to  his 
feet. 

"  Yes,  I  will  go,"  he  exclaimed,  his  eyes  ablaze 
with  the  light  of  a  new  determination,  and  every 
nerve  alert  as  if  charged  with  a  live  wire.  "  I 
will  find  those  rascals  if  they  are  on  the  face  of  the 
earth  and  compel  them  to  disgorge  their  odious 
secret ! "  He  arranged  his  toilet,  which  was 
quickly  accomplished,  for  he  had  brought  no 
clothes  with  him  except  what  he  wore. 

Exactly  at  five  minutes  past  eleven  Mr.  Lunt 
made  his  appearance  in  the  hall  below  to  await 


THE  ARREST  407 

further  developments.  Five  minutes  later  Bell 
came  down  the  stairs  fully  dressed  for  the  drive 
to  the  depot ;  and  directly  behind  her  Dr.  Craig 
sauntered  down  with  her  cloak  over  his  arm.  Bell 
beamed  one  of  her  most  winning  smiles  on  Mr. 
Lunt  as  she  reached  his  side  and  said  softly, 

"  Dr.  St.  John  insists  on  Dr.  Craig's  accompany- 
ing me  to  the  station.  You  know  the  doctor  is 
a  sort  of  an  A  No.  1  crank  on  fresh  air;  and  he 
thinks  the  nurse  needs  a  little  after  his  long  and 
continuous  confinement  in  the  sick-room.  You 
don't  mind  his  going  with  us;  do  you?  " 

"  Not  in  the  least,"  suavely  assented  Mr.  Lunt, 
as  the  butler  brought  his  overcoat  and  helped  him 
on  with  it.  He  greeted  the  doctor  with  a  face- 
tious smile;  and  as  they  followed  Bell  and  her 
mother  down  the  hall  to  the  side  door  where  the 
carriage  stood  in  waiting,  he  inquired  about  Rob- 
ert's condition  and  the  prospects  of  his  recovery. 

Bell  reached  the  door  first  and  stopped  short 
on  the  threshold  with  an  exclamation,  in  which  dis- 
gust, impatience,  and  anger  were  strangely 
blended : 

"  How  stupid !  They  have  sent  round  the 
coupe !  " 

"  That  is  what  you  ordered,  miss,"  meekly  ex- 
plained the  coachman,  touching  his  hat  respect- 
fully. 

"  Yes,  I  believe  I  did,  Thomas,"  acknowledged 
Bell  with  a  half  reluctant,  half  dejected  air. 
"  That  was  before  I  knew  Dr.  Craig  was  coming, 


408      THE  SINS  OF  THE  FATHERS 

and  I  neglected  to  change  my  order.  It  is  all  my 
fault.  But  what  is  to  be  done? "  she  asked, 
turning  to  Mr.  Lunt  with  a  most  rueful  and  help- 
less look  on  her  face.  "  The  coupe  will  hold  but 
two  inside  and  there  is  not  time  now  to  get  the 
coach  ready.  We  shall  be  late  for  the  train  if 
we  delay  any  longer;  and  poor  Ruth  will  be 
frightened  if  she  is  kept  waiting  in  that  old  barn 
of  a  station  at  this  hour  of  the  night." 

Mr.  Lunt  vouchsafed  no  reply.  He  looked  as 
helpless  as  she;  but  a  curious  smile  lurked  under 
his  long  mustache  as  he  waited  for  her  to  solve 
the  knotty  problem.  She  glanced  out  of  the  open 
door.  The  stars  were  shining  and  the  sky  was 
clear.  Again  she  turned  to  him  with  a  look  of 
distress  and  humiliation. 

"  Would  you  mind  staying  with  Mother,  Mr. 
Lunt,  while  Dr.  Craig  and  I  go  to  the  depot?  " 
she  asked  in  her  most  beseeching  tone.  "  You  see, 
he  can  ride  on  the  box  with  the  coachman  on  our 
return,  and  that  will  leave  the  inside  for  Ruth 
and  me." 

"  No,  I  would  not  mind  such  an  arrangement  in 
the  least,  if  it  were  absolutely  necessary  for  you 
to  go  to  the  depot  to-night,"  he  replied  with  a 
significant  emphasis  on  the  "  if." 

She  looked  at  him  in  well  assumed  surprise. 

"  What  do  you  mean  ?  "  she  asked  in  a  tone  of 
innocence. 

"  Simply  what  I  said,"  he  answered  calmly, 
while  his  eyes  contracted  and  emitted  a  glint  of 


THE  ARREST  409 

steely  indifference.  "  I  think,  however,"  he  went 
on  after  a  second's  pause,  fixing  his  eyes  on  her 
white  face,  "  that  you  have  carried  your  little  plot 
quite  far  enough,  Miss  Cole.  You  see,  I  happened 
to  find  this  telegram  on  the  stairs,  where  you  must 
have  dropped  it,  which  was  very,  very  careless 
of  you."  And  he  held  up  the  tell-tale  paper  un- 
der her  eyes  for  her  inspection.  Then  turning  to 
the  doctor,  who  had  stood  quietly  by  during  all 
this  colloquy  wondering  how  it  would  terminate, 
and  placing  his  hand  on  the  young  man's  shoulder, 
he  said  gravely :  "  Mr.  Bixby,  you  are  my  pris- 
oner." 

The  doctor  started.  His  arms  dropped  limply 
to  his  sides,  letting  Bell's  cloak  slip  to  the  floor 
unheeded.  He  was  deathly  pale,  but  no  sound 
escaped  his  lips. 

For  a  moment  Bell  stood  as  one  petrified.  She 
saw  that  all  was  lost.  Then  with  a  low  cry  of 
pain,  she  threw  her  arms  round  the  doctor's  neck 
and  sobbed  as  if  her  heart  would  break.  This 
seemed  to  bring  the  doctor  to  a  sense  of  his  sur- 
roundings ;  and  closing  his  arms  about  her  grief- 
convulsed  form,  he  tried  to  soothe  her.  Mean- 
while, Mrs.  Cole  looked  on  aghast,  unable  to  move 
or  speak. 

"  I  beg  your  pardon,  Mrs.  Cole,"  said  Mr.  Lunt, 
breaking  the  spell  which  seemed  to  have  frozen  the 
blood  in  her  veins,  "  but  this  man  is  a  notorious 
murderer  for  whom  we  have  been  searching  for 
the  past  two  years." 


410      THE  SINS  OF  THE  FATHERS 

"  Oh ! "  gasped  Mrs.  Cole  with  a  start  of  hor- 
ror. 

"  It's  a  lie ! "  cried  Bell,  wheeling  on  Mr.  Lunt 
with  flashing  eyes,  and  stamping  her  little  foot  in 
rage.  "  It's  a  lie ;  and  you  know  it's  a  lie !  " 

Mrs.  Cole  had  by  this  time  recovered  from  her 
first  shock  of  surprise.  Drawing  herself  haught- 
ily to  her  full  height,  she  pushed  Bell  aside  and 
stepped  between  her  and  the  doctor,  saying  in  very 
cold  and  indignant  tones, 

"  Isabell  Cole,  I  am  ashamed  of  you !  Have 
you  forgotten  the  pride  and  the  modesty  that  be- 
long to  your  womanhood?  Have  you  forgotten 
your  station  in  life  and  the  duty  you  owe  to  it? 
Go  to  your  room  at  once! "  and  she  waved  her  off 
with  an  imperious  gesture  whose  meaning  there 
was  no  mistaking. 

Bell  turned  at  her  mother's  bidding  and  fled 
through  the  hall  and  up  the  stairs,  never  pausing 
till  she  reached  the  threshold  of  Robert's  cham- 
ber. Here  she  stopped,  white,  and  trembling  in 
every  limb.  A  high  Japanese  screen  stood  be- 
tween her  and  the  bed  on  which  Robert  lay  in  a 
gentle  slumber. 

The  old  doctor  sat  by  the  table  in  the  center  of 
the  room  reading  his  paper.  He  had  heard  the 
faint  swish-swash  of  fluttering  silks  on  the  air, 
and  had  felt  rather  than  seen  the  figure  pause  in 
the  doorway.  He  raised  his  eyes  mechanically 
and  met  the  wild,  imploring  look  on  the  face  of 
the  trembling  girl.  Seeing  by  her  agitation  that 


THE  ARREST  411 

something  was  wrong,  he  rose  and  hastened  to 
her. 

"  What  is  it?  "  he  whispered  as  he  drew  near. 

"  Doctor  Craig ! "  she  gasped  and  sank  to  the 
floor  in  a  helpless  heap. 

He  summoned  the  servants  and  ordered  her  car- 
ried to  her  room,  where  he  left  her  in  charge  of 
her  maid  while  he  went  down  to  learn  what  had 
happened  to  the  doctor.  He  met  Mrs.  Cole  in 
the  lower  hall,  cold,  stiff,  and  severe  of  mien,  and 
told  her  of  Bell's  fainting  and  asked  her  what 
had  happened.  For  reply  she  waved  him  towards 
the  rear  parlor,  and  then  passed  on  silently  up  the 
stairs  to  Bell's  room. 

The  little  doctor  went  blindly  on,  and  a  moment 
later  walked  unannounced  into  the  presence  of  the 
two  men,  who  were  seated  at  opposite  sides  of  a 
large  table,  one  sullen  and  silent,  the  other  silent 
and  triumphant.  Sailing  in  with  his  usual  breezy 
and  brusque  air,  he  broke  in  on  their  meditations 
with, 

"  Well,  boys,  what's  up?  " 

Both  men  rose  to  their  feet  simultaneously. 
Doctor  Craig  hung  his  head  in  abashed  silence, 
while  Mr.  Lunt  made  the  denouncement. 

The  old  doctor  turned  deathly  pale,  placed  his 
hand  over  his  eyes,  and  staggered  to  a  chair. 
The  young  man  sprang  to  his  side  and  throwing 
his  arm  affectionately  across  the  shoulders  of  his 
stanch  old  friend,  said  cheerily, 

"  Don't  be  alarmed,  Doc.     It  may  not  be  quite 


412      THE  SINS  OF  THE  FATHERS 

so  bad  as  it  appears.     You  know  the  devil  is  not 
as  black  as  he  is  painted.     So  cheer  up !  " 

His  voice  had  such  a  cheerful  ring  that  the  old 
doctor  took  heart  and  presently  regained  his 
wonted  composure.  But  the  old  man's  face 
looked  haggard  and  drawn  when  he  raised  it  to 
meet  the  eyes  of  the  young  man  whom  he  had 
learned  to  love  as  a  son.  He  patted  the  delicate 
white  hand  where  it  rested  on  his  shoulder  and 
replied  in  a  voice  tremulous  with  emotion, 

"  That's  right,  lad,  keep  up  your  spirits,  and 
don't  forget  for  one  moment  that  I  am  your  friend 
and  protector  through  weal  and  woe ! "  Then 
turning  to  Mr.  Lunt,  he  asked :  "  What  do  you 
intend  to  do?  Can't  you  let  the  lad  remain  with 
me  till  morning?  I  need  him  in  the  sick-room." 
And  he  patted  the  hand  on  his  shoulder  again. 

"  If  you  will  give  me  your  word  of  honor  thnt 
no  further  attempt  to  escape  will  be  made,  I  will 
turn  him  over  to  you  till  eight  o'clock  to-morrow 
morning,"  said  Mr.  Lunt,  looking  from  one  to 
the  other  for  some  assurance  that  his  confidence 
would  not  be  betrayed. 

Both  men  pledged  their  word  that  the  law  would 
be  respected,  and  received  in  turn  a  guarantee  of 
that  freedom  they  sought. 

"  I  make  this  concession,"  explained  Mr.  Lunt, 
"  because  I  have  already  promised  Mr.  Cole  that 
I  would  not  make  the  arrest  till  the  very  last  min- 
ute to  which  it  could  be  postponed." 

"Then  he  knows?"  questioned  Dr.  St.  John. 


THE  ARREST  413 

*'  He  does,"  admitted  Mr.  Lunt  frankly. 

The  old  doctor  looked  troubled;  but  as  there 
was  nothing  else  that  could  be  said  or  done  that 
would  relieve  the  situation,  he  rose,  and  linking 
his  arm  in  that  of  his  protege,  bowed  to  Mr.  Lunt 
and  turned  away.  Together  the  two  men  left  the 
room,  the  elder  leaning  almost  helplessly  on  the 
arm  of  the  younger,  and  walked  slowly,  silently, 
and  sorrowfully  across  the  hall,  up  the  broad  stair- 
way, and  into  Robert's  chamber. 


CHAPTER  XXV 

NEW  SCENES 

Let  us  now  return  to  Ruth,  whom  we  last  saw 
as  she  waved  a  farewell  to  Milly  and  Joe  as  the 
train  pulled  out  of  the  station  on  Saturday  morn- 
ing. The  train  increased  its  speed  and  bore  her 
on  to  her  destination,  arriving  at  the  grimy  little 
station  at  L.  about  the  middle  of  the  afternoon. 
She  felt  very  much  fatigued  by  the  long  and 
tedious  journey  —  tedious,  because  her  heart  was 
out  of  tune  with  the  grandeur  of  the  scenes 
through  which  she  had  passed.  The  white, 
troubled  face  of  Robert  as  she  had  seen  it  in  that 
passing  glimpse  haunted  her  like  a  disturbing 
dream.  It  seemed  to  flit  forever  before  her  with 
exasperating  perversity,  as  a  will-o'-the-wisp 
dances  over  the  quagmires  to  lure  the  lost  traveler 
to  his  doom.  Sometimes  it  appeared  to  be  so 
close  to  her  own  hot  cheeks  that  she  actually  raised 
her  hand  to  touch  it,  only  to  break  the  vision  for 
a  moment.  His  sad,  melancholy  eyes,  as  she  had 
seen  them  of  late,  with  all  the  laughing  love-light 
gone  from  their  depths,  seemed  to  mock,  upbraid, 
taunt,  reproach,  and  implore  her  by  turns. 

The   sun   rose  higher  and  higher.     The  train 
414 


NEW  SCENES  415 

dashed  on  and  into  the  very  heart  of  the  hilly 
regions,  winding  through  the  cuts,  or  skirting 
along  the  banks  of  sparkling  streams ;  but  she 
heeded  it  not.  Under  the  effects  of  the  warming 
temperature  the  white  mists  of  the  meadows  and 
the  purple  haze  of  the  hills  rose  and  floated  off 
like  webs  of  gossamer.  The  golden  glow  of  the 
sunlight  brought  into  bold  relief  great  splashes  of 
color  on  the  farther  hillsides,  bewildering  masses 
of  throbbing  tints  in  the  nearer  distance,  and 
flaming,  flaunting  patches  of  red  or  yellow  of 
isolated  oaks  and  maples  standing  proudly  aloof 
in  the  meadows  and  lowlands. 

But  the  splendors  of  it  all  were  lost  on  her,  for 
she  saw  them  not.  What  cared  she  for  the  chang- 
ing foliage,  the  sunlit  towering  hills,  or  the  mar- 
velous depths  of  the  fern  shadows  below  —  she 
whose  soul  was  in  a  tumult  of  perplexity  bordering 
on  despair?  Nothing! 

She  heaved  a  sigh  of  relief  when  the  train  drew 
into  the  L.  Station,  and  she  found  herself  at  last 
in  the  arms  of  her  father.  Mr.  Bent  tucked  her 
away  in  the  buggy  with  the  same  tenderness  he 
was  wont  to  bestow  on  her  when  a  child ;  and  after 
ordering  the  little  trunk  sent  up  by  express,  he 
climbed  in  beside  her  and  drove  off.  Half  an 
hour's  drive  brought  them  to  the  door  of  an  old- 
fashioned  house,  standing  severely  alone  some  dis- 
tance beyond  the  outskirts  of  the  town. 

Under  the  benign  influence  of  her  father's 
cheery  talk,  who  besieged  her  with  questions  of 


416      THE  SINS  OF  THE  FATHERS 

his  boyhood  home  and  friends,  Ruth  recovered 
much  of  her  usual  buoyance  of  spirit  ere  they  had 
sighted  the  house.  As  it  rose  suddenly  on  the 
landscape  as  they  turned  into  the  highway  from 
a  cross  road,  Mr.  Bent  pointed  it  out  to  her. 
She  leaned  far  out  of  the  buggy,  and  with  a  pair 
of  wide-open  and  inquisitive  eyes,  critically  sur- 
veyed the  house  and  its  surroundings. 

Ruth  never  quite  forgot  her  first  impression  of 
the  quaint  old  place ;  nor  could  she  ever  under- 
stand the  absorbing  interest  it  roused  in  her  from 
the  first  instant  her  eyes  rested  on  it. 

Years  afterwards  she  recalled  vividly  the  long, 
almost  interminable  stretch  of  chalk-colored  high- 
way, flanked  by  gently  undulating  meadows  bare 
and  brown  —  bare  and  brown,  save  for  clumps  of 
fine  old  trees  standing  out  from  the  main  wood- 
lands in  a  blaze  of  autumnal  glory,  which  broke 
the  continuity  of  the  levels  here  and  there,  past 
which  she  seemed  to  float  on  airy  wings.  Off  to 
the  left,  some  distance  beyond  the  house,  she  could 
see  the  fair  grounds,  with  their  masses  of  various 
colored  buildings  enclosed  by  a  high,  weather- 
beaten  fence,  already  presenting  a  holiday  appear- 
ance with  their  flags  and  streamers  fluttering  in 
the  light  breeze.  And  then  the  rambling  old  house 
itself,  topped  by  a  dingy  looking  cupola,  octagonal 
in  shape,  over  which  gyrated  a  tarnished  weather- 
cock. 

Mrs.  Bent  stood  on  the  steps  to  welcome  her 
stepdaughter  when  the  buggy  rolled  up  to  the 


NEW  SCENES  417 

door.  As  Ruth  alighted  she  was  instantly  folded 
in  a  motherly  embrace  and  led  up  the  steps  and 
into  a  large  homelike  sitting-room.  Although  the 
day  was  exceedingly  warm,  a  wood  fire  burned 
brightly  on  the  wide,  open  hearth,  which  lent  an 
air  of  comfort  and  cheer  to  the  big  room.  The 
glow  of  the  firelight  played  fitfully  over  the  deli- 
cately carved  wainscotings  and  brought  out  in 
bold  relief  the  exquisite  designs  of  the  woodwork. 
Ruth  went  into  raptures  over  the  effect,  and  ex- 
pressed her  delight  with  everything  she  saw. 

After  supper,  as  was  his  custom  when  the 
weather  permitted,  Mr.  Bent  betook  himself  to  the 
shelter  of  a  gnarled  old  apple-tree  which  stood  on 
the  west  side  of  the  house,  where  he  was  presently 
joined  by  Mrs.  Bent  and  Ruth.  Mr.  Bent  soon 
buried  himself  in  his  paper;  his  wife  worked  si- 
lently on  a  bit  of  embroidery ;  while  Ruth  sat  with 
hands  clasped  listlessly  in  her  lap,  idly  watching 
the  sun-clouds  pile  and  rift  above  the  western 
horizon. 

The  day  had  been  uncommonly  hot  and  sultry 
—  one  of  those  rare  September  days  that  seem  to 
arrest  the  flight  of  summer,  give  a  dash  of  bril- 
liancy to  the  face  of  nature,  and  set  the  earth  a- 
buzzing  with  a  new  kind  of  life.  But  towards 
evening  there  had  sprung  up  a  refreshing  breeze, 
which  stirred  the  leaves  with  a  gentle,  rustling 
motion,  yet  still  retained  sufficient  of  the  sun's 
warmth  to  induce  one  to  linger  under  its  dreamy 
influence  beneath  the  open  sky. 


418      THE  SINS  OF  THE  FATHERS 

The  sun  sank  lower  and  lower  behind  the  fir- 
crowned  hills  in  the  west,  leaving  a  trail  of  crimson 
and  gold  in  its  wake.  The  colors  glanced  anent 
the  window-panes  of  the  neat  cottages  and  gilded 
the  slender  spire  of  the  little  white  church  nestling 
amidst  the  verdure  of  the  valley  below. 

The  soft  cooing  of  the  doves  came  from  the 
cotes  under  the  eaves  of  the  barn ;  the  vesper  song 
of  a  brown  thrush  floated  over  from  a  copse  of 
maples  near  by ;  and  all  nature  seemed  to  blend 
in  a  common  harmony ;  when,  suddenly  the  strains 
of  "  The  Campbells  are  Coming "  quavered  out 
on  the  evening  air  from  the  rasping  strings  of  a 
squeaky  old  fiddle. 

Mr.  Bent  dropped  his  paper,  exclaiming, 

"  Why  hello,  there's  Jethro  !  " 

All  eyes  turned  in  the  direction  of  the  quaver- 
ing sounds  and  beheld  one  of  the  strangest,  most 
uncouth  figures  of  a  man  they  had  ever  seen.  He 
stood  on  the  graveled  path  in  front  of  the  house, 
with  his  head  tilted  backward,  his  eyes  rolled  up 
and  fixed  in  a  vacant  stare  on  the  second  story 
window,  while  his  whole  body  swayed  with  the 
rhythm  of  the  martial  tune  that  rose  and  fell  like 
a  plaintive  wail  on  the  still  evening  air.  His  right 
foot  beat  time  to  the  music ;  and  the  grinding  of 
the  gravel  beneath  his  heel  blended  strangely  with 
the  rasp  of  his  time-battered  instrument.  He  ap- 
peared oblivious  to  everything  but  his  fiddle ;  and 
all  of  his  energies  seemed  bent  on  drawing  out  the 


NEW  SCENES  419 

most  sonorous  sounds  of  which  it  was  capable  of 
producing. 

"  Hello,  Jethro,  come  right  along  this  way ; 
you're  only  wasting  your  music  there !  "  shouted 
Mr.  Bent  good-naturedly. 

Down  came  the  fiddle  with  a  jerk;  the  head 
twisted  half-way  round  with  an  automatical  move- 
ment, while  his  eyes  rolled  over  in  his  head  and 
focused  themselves  on  the  little  group  under  the 
apple-tree.  No  other  part  of  his  body  moved ; 
and  having  assumed  this  position,  he  remained 
motionless  till  Mr.  Bent  spoke  again.  Then  he 
turned  abruptly  and  ambled  towards  him. 

"  Gosh,  Mr.  Bent,  yer  cum  nigh  takin'  the 
breath  outer  me!  "  ejaculated  the  queer  little  man, 
drawing  near  with  a  half  frightened  look  on  his 
face.  "  I  didn't  know  you  lived  here ;  I  didn't 
know  the  place  was  occypied  at  all.  How  long 
yer  lived  here?  " 

He  blurted  the  words  out  under  his  breath  as 
if  he  feared  the  sound  of  his  own  voice.  At  the 
same  time  his  peaked  chin  shot  forward  with  a 
sudden  jerk  of  his  long,  scrawny  neck ;  his  left  eye- 
lid twitched  nervously,  giving  to  his  eye  a  comical 
squint  which  roused  the  risibility  of  even  Mrs. 
Bent  —  although  she  always  considered  it  the 
height  of  ill-breeding  to  laugh  at  the  infirmities 
of  the  unfortunate. 

"  About  six  weeks,"  answered  Mr.  Bent,  plac- 
ing a  chair  conveniently  near  the  quaint  figure. 


420      THE  SINS  OF  THE  FATHERS 

"  'Bout  —  six  —  weeks !  "  repeated  Jed  with  an 
involuntary  gasp  between  each  word. 

"  Yes,  we  came  here  early  in  August,"  ex- 
plained Mr.  Bent,  smiling  at  Jed's  incredulous 
look. 

"  Pshaw,  yer  don't  say  so !  How  jer  like  the 
place?"  He  spoke  with  a  jerky  movement;  and 
his  voice  seemed  to  come  from  his  throat  with  a 
smothered,  gurgling  sound  not  unlike  that  of 
water  issuing  from  a  narrow-necked  bottle. 

Mr.  Bent  laughed  and  answered, 

"  Why,  Jed,  we  like  the  place  very  well ;  don't 
you  see  how  we  are  enjoying  rural  life?  By  the 
way,  Jed,  you  haven't  met  Mrs.  Bent  before. 
Mrs.  Bent,  allow  me  to  present  Mr.  Prowty,  one 
of  the  town's  most  noted  citizens." 

There  was  a  roguish  twinkle  in  his  eyes  as  he 
presented  his  caller  according  to  the  well  estab- 
lished rules  of  etiquette. 

Jed  straightened  up  and  a  look  of  intelligence 
flashed  into  his  small  black  eyes.  Doffing  his 
dusty  straw  hat,  he  made  a  profound  bow  and 
jerked  out, 

"How  jer  do,  Mam!" 

A  more  pathetic  sight  could  not  be  imagined 
than  that  presented  by  the  queer  little  man  as  he 
made  his  obeisance  to  Mrs.  Bent.  His  shrunken, 
emaciated  form,  clad  in  patched,  tattered,  and 
faded  garments  was  bent  nearly  double  in  an  atti- 
tude of  courtly  deference.  One  hand  firmly 
clasped  the  old  cracked  fiddle  by  the  neck,  the 


NEW  SCENES  421 

other  crushed  the  ragged  straw  hat  in  a  nervous 
grasp.  The  wind  made  sport  of  the  long,  thin 
strands  of  snow-white  hair  that  crowned  his  tem- 
ples, and  tossed  them  carelessly  about  his  bronzed 
face.  The  bow  was  low  and  reverent.  He 
seemed  to  forget  himself  for  the  time  being,  and 
there  is  no  telling  how  long  the  salaam  might 
have  lasted  had  not  Mrs.  Bent  come  to  the  rescue, 
by  saying  in  her  dulcet  tones, 

"  This  is  indeed  an  unexpected  pleasure,  Mr. 
Prowty.  Pray  be  seated !  " 

Slowly  he  resumed  his  erect  position;  then  his 
eyes  wandered  furtively  over  his  shoulder  towards 
the  house,  and  with  another  outward  shoot  of  the 
chin,  he  asked  nervously, 

"  I  say,  Mr.  Bent,  ever  see  anything  peculiar 
'bout  the  house?  " 

"  Peculiar ! "  repeated  Mr.  Bent,  smiling  at 
Jed's  childish  question.  "  No,  indeed ;  we  have 
found  it  a  most  delightful  place.  But  come,  Jed, 
sit  down.  You  must  be  tired  after  your  long 
walk  from  town,"  and  motioning  Jed  to  the  chair 
which  had  already  been  placed  for  his  convenience, 
Mr.  Bent  called  out,  "  Nellie,  bring  out  some  re- 
freshments for  Mr.  Prowty !  " 

Jed  dropped  into  the  chair,  while  a  look  of 
blank  amazement  settled  on  his  withered  face. 

"  Gosh  durned  if  I  kin  understand  it ! "  he 
ejaculated,  more  to  himself  than  to  those  about 
him,  as  he  placed  his  fiddle  across  his  knees. 
Again  the  chin  shot  out;  and  a  stealthy  glance 


422      THE  SINS  OF  THE  FATHERS 

swept  the  grounds  and  rested  for  a  second  on  the 
foaming  milk  which  Nellie  was  pouring  into  the 
pans  at  the  kitchen  door.  Bringing  his  eyes  back 
to  Mr.  Bent's  face  with  a  nervous  twitch,  he  said, 

"  I  say,  Mr.  Bent,  ever  hear  any  strange  noises 
in  the  house  over  there?  " 

Mr.  Bent  brought  his  fun-twinkling  eyes  to  bear 
full  on  Jed's  wrinkled  face;  but  he  checked  him- 
self from  making  merry  at  the  expense  of  his 
visitor  when  he  saw  the  look  of  concern  in  his  eyes. 
Thrusting  his  hands  deep  into  his  pockets  and 
jingling  the  coppers  he  found  therein,  he  replied 
lightly, 

"  Why,  no ;  at  least  none  stranger  than  that 
made  by  the  occasional  flap  of  a  loose  shutter  on 
a  windy  night,  or  the  scurry  of  rats  across  the 
rafters  in  the  loft  over  the  kitchen ;  and  we  have 
heard  the  squeaky  croak  of  the  spring  piper  a  little 
out  of  season  floating  up  from  the  rush  pond  down 
yonder.  Hark  !  there  it  is  now !  " 

Sure  enough,  the  shrill,  half  croak,  half  pipe 
of  the  young  frog  came  wafting  up  on  the  evening 
breeze.  Once,  twice,  thrice,  then  all  was  still  as 
before. 

Jed  sprang  from  his  seat  at  the  first  pipe;  his 
fiddle  dropped  with  a  hollow  thud  on  the  smooth 
turf  at  his  feet  and  lay  unheeded ;  his  chin  shot 
out  with  its  usual  jerk;  and  his  right  hand  went 
up,  trumpet  fashion,  to  his  ear  as  he  bent  for- 
ward to  catch  the  sound.  For  a  moment  he  stood 
thus,  with  all  the  intensity  of  his  nervous  nature 


NEW  SCENES  423 

concentrated  on  listening  for  a  repetition  of  the 
pipes.  But  none  came.  Slowly  the  muscular 
tension  relaxed,  and  he  sank  limp  into  his  seat 
with  a  perplexed  air.  Stooping  to  pick  up  his 
fiddle,  he  muttered  to  himself,  though  loud  enough 
to  be  heard  by  all, 

"  Gosh  durned  if  thet  don't  beat  all !  Lived 
here  six  weeks  an'  ain't  hered  nothin'  strange ; 
ain't  seed  nothin'  strange !  "  Then  he  began  to 
tune  his  fiddle. 

"  I  say,  Mr.  Bent,  how  long  jer  expect  ter  live 
here? "  he  asked  abruptly,  raising  his  fiddle  to 
his  shoulder  as  he  spoke  and  placing  his  hollow 
cheek  affectionately  against  its  time-honored  body. 
Then  giving  the  bow  a  wide  flourish  in  the  air, 
and  bringing  it  down  gracefully  on  the  strings, 
he  scraped  out  one  bar  of  "  Annie  Laurie  "  ere 
Mr.  Bent  had  time  to  answer  his  question. 

This  feat  was  too  much  for  the  pretended 
gravity  of  Mr.  Bent,  and  he  laughed  heartily  as 
he  replied, 

"  Well  now,  Jed,  that  depends  on  how  long 
those  mysterious  sights  and  sounds  to  which  you 
refer  so  vaguely  will  allow  me  to  enjoy  the  com- 
forts of  a  quiet  country  life." 

"  Gosh  durn  it,  Mr.  Bent,"  he  exclaimed  in  tones 
of  surprise,  "  what  I  want  ter  know  now  is,  if  yer 
ain't  never  herd  the  story  'bout  this  'er  place  ?  " 

"  No,  Jed,  I  have  never  heard  a  word  deroga- 
tory to  the  place,"  and  Mr.  Bent  smiled  at  the 
worried  expression  on  Jed's  face. 


424-      THE  SINS  OF  THE  FATHERS 

"  Gosh  durn  it,  Mr.  Bent,  if  thet  ar  don't  beat 
all  creation !  "  And  he  scraped  another  bar  of 
"  Annie  Laurie  "  on  the  bass  string.  Lowering 
his  fiddle  to  his  knee,  he  scratched  his  head  me- 
chanically in  a  vain  attempt  to  account  for  Mr. 
Bent's  ignorance.  His  eyes  took  another  survey 
of  the  house  and  grounds  and  rested  finally  on  a 
large  iron  gate  set  in  a  high  stone  wall  of  solid 
masonry  that  marked  the  southern  boundary  of  the 
garden  in  the  rear.  On  the  other  side  of  that 
wall  lay  the  town  cemetery  and  beyond  that  shim- 
mered the  placid  waters  of  the  lake.  His  gaze 
lingered  on  the  gate  as  if  he  expected  to  see  it 
open  and  some  white-robed  spectre  emerge  from 
the  tomb  and  stride  into  the  midst  of  them.  Fear, 
horror,  and  consternation  were  alternately  de- 
picted on  his  countenance. 

"  Why,  Jed,  you  seem  very  much  alarmed  about 
my  safety;  but  I  think  your  fears  are  entirely 
unfounded.  I  have  the  most  perfect  confidence  in 
the  good  faith  and  sense  of  propriety  of  my  neigh- 
bors across  the  wall ;  and  I  am  inclined  to  believe 
that  if  any  ghostly  malcontents  have  seen  fit  in 
times  past  to  make  this  place  a  rendezvous  for  high 
carnivals,  they  will  now  respect  the  rights  of  a 
peaceful  citizen  and  leave  me  and  my  family  to 
enjoy  the  serenity  of  our  present  surroundings." 

There  was  not  the  slighest  shade  of  levity  in  his 
voice,  and  the  habitual  twinkle  of  his  mild  blue 
eyes  gave  way  to  a  serious,  half  pitying  look  as 
he  spoke.  It  was  evident  that  he  was  trying  to 


NEW  SCENES  425 

alleviate  the  fears,  whatever  they  were,  of  his  vis- 
itor. 

Jed  remained  silent  for  some  seconds  after  Mr. 
Bent  had  finished  speaking,  his  eyes  still  resting 
on  the  gate  with  a  haunted  gaze.  Finally  he 
rolled  his  eyes  over  and  fixed  the  right  one  on  the 
face  of  his  host,  while  the  left  one  opened  and 
shut  with  a  rapid,  twitching  movement  that  sent 
his  whole  face  askew. 

"  Now,  Mr.  Bent,"  he  said,  his  voice  trembling 
pitifully,  "  es  yer  ain't  hered  the  story  'bout  this 
place,  I'd  like  ter  tell  yer  'bout  it.  Thare  ain't 
nobody  es  knows  it  better'n  I  do." 

"  Why,  yes,  Jed,  if  there  is  any  history  at- 
tached to  this  place  I  should  certainly  like  to  hear 
it.  My  wife  here  has  always  had  a  sort  of  sus- 
picion of  that  darksome  loft  over  the  kitchen. 
She  calls  it  grewsome,"  said  Mr.  Bent,  nodding  his 
head  towards  the  long,  rambling  ell  which  jutted 
from  the  main  building  in  the  rear. 

At  the  mention  of  the  loft  Jed  gave  a  start  which 
accelerated  the  twitching  of  the  eyelid ;  and  lean- 
ing eagerly  towards  Mrs.  Bent,  he  asked  in  a  tragic 
whisper, 

"  But  yer  ain't  never  seed  anything  onnatural 
up  thar,  hev  yer?  " 

Mrs.  Bent  could  scarcely  refrain  from  laughing 
outright  at  the  tragic  mien  of  the  little  man ;  and 
it  was  with  an  effort  that  she  controlled  her  voice 
sufficiently  to  give  an  intelligible  answer.  She 
was  naturally  kind-hearted ;  and  good  breeding 


426      THE  SINS  OF  THE  FATHERS 

forbade  her  from  making  light  of  a  phantasy 
which  appeared  so  real  to  the  forlorn  looking  crea- 
ture before  her,  for  she  felt  that  her  caller  was  la- 
boring under  some  mental  aberration. 

"  No,"  she  stammered  after  a  moment's  pause ; 
"  I  have  neither  seen  nor  heard  anything  super- 
natural anywhere  about  the  house  or  grounds; 
only  the  loft  does  look  gloomy ;  and  I  never  care 
to  enter  it,  so  I  keep  the  doors  leading  to  it 
locked." 

Jed  settled  back  in  his  chair,  apparently  re- 
lieved at  the  assurance  given.  Up  went  the  fid- 
dle to  his  shoulder  and  with  another  grand  flourish 
of  the  bow,  a  couple  of  bars  of  "  Old  Dan  Tucker  " 
trembled  out  on  the  air,  accompanied  by  a  low, 
gleeful  chuckle  which  came  from  his  half  closed 
lips  and  mingled  weirdly  with  the  notes  of  the 
fiddle. 

At  this  juncture  Nellie  came  from  the  kitchen 
bearing  a  tray  on  which  was  laid  out  temptingly 
a  delicious  repast,  consisting  of  thin  slices  of  bread 
and  butter,  cold  chicken,  cake,  peaches  and  cream, 
and  a  large  pitcher  of  sweet  milk.  Mr.  Bent 
placed  a  small  circular  table  at  Jethro's  elbow,  on 
which  Nellie  set  the  tray.  She  then  poured  out 
a  tumbler  of  the  rich  milk,  and  arranged  his  plate, 
knife  and  fork,  and  spoon  with  as  much  care  as 
though  she  were  serving  a  king. 

Jethro's  hungry  eyes  fairly  gloated  on  the  food, 
and  it  was  evident  that  he  would  need  little  urging 
to  help  himself.  But  he  betrayed  a  latent  spark 


NEW  SCENES  427 

of  refinement  by  the  delicate  manner  in  which  he 
approached  it.  He  laid  his  hat  and  fiddle  care- 
fully on  the  grass  at  his  feet.  Then  he  rose, 
grasped  the  back  of  his  chair  in  a  nervous  grip, 
and  bowed  deferentially  to  Mrs.  Bent. 

"  I  couldn't  refuse  sech  hospitality  if  I  wanted 
ter;  an'  I  don't  want  ter.  It  looks  too  durned 
nice ! "  Saying  which,  he  seated  himself  at  the 
table  and  fell  to  with  a  relish. 

He  ate  heartily  though  not  greedily ;  and  ere  he 
had  finished  his  repast,  Mrs.  Bent  was  convinced 
that,  somewhere  in  years  gone  by,  this  wreck  of 
a  man  had  seen  better  days.  She  became  eager 
to  hear  his  story;  the  more  so,  because  she  felt 
that  his  own  life's  history  was  in  some  way  linked 
with  the  place.  As  his  hunger  diminished  his  self- 
control  increased ;  and  there  appeared  less  and  less 
of  that  twitching  of  the  facial  nerves  which  gave 
to  his  countenance  an  elfish  cast.  Besides  this,  as 
he  talked  to  Mr.  Bent  on  town  topics,  he  would 
occasionally  drop  his  crude  manner  of  speech  and 
fall  into  a  natural  vein  of  pure  English.  The 
change  seemed  to  come  unconsciously  and  last  two 
or  three  sentences ;  when  he  would  catch  himself, 
give  a  sudden  gasp,  and  resume  his  chosen  dialect. 

After  draining  the  pitcher  of  every  drop  of 
milk,  and  clearing  plate  and  platter  of  every  ves- 
tige of  edibles,  Jethro  pushed  his  chair  back  and 
rose  from  the  table  with  the  satisfied  air  of  a 
full  man.  Picking  up  his  fiddle  and  dragging  his 
chair  over  where  he  could  face  his  auditors,  he 


428      THE  SINS  OF  THE  FATHERS 

seated  himself  and  began  tuning  up  his  instrument. 
This  done,  he  straightened  up,  crossed  his  legs, 
placed  his  fiddle  under  his  chin,  and  played  a  few 
bars  of  "  Auld  Lang  Syne  "  and  began  his  tale. 

As  he  told  his  story  in  his  own  peculiar  style, 
interspersing  it  with  snatches  of  various  old  songs, 
and  running  an  obligato  of  the  same  melodies  re- 
mittently  to  the  end,  rasped  out  on  his  old  cracked 
fiddle,  it  was  fascinating  in  the  extreme.  I  shall 
endeavor  to  repeat  the  tale  as  nearly  as  possible 
as  he  narrated  it ;  and  the  reader  will  notice  how 
naturally  he  drops  his  dialectical  form  of  speech 
and  drifts  into  a  strain  of  pure  English  then  back 
to  the  dialectical. 


"  It's  somethin'  over  forty  years  since  Don 
Bixby  brought  home  his  bride.  She  was  a  Miss 
Cook  from  somewhar  near  Boston,  an'  a  mighty 
purty  creeter  she  was,  too.  Don  lived  in  the  old 
mansion  near  the  green  in  the  town  at  that  time; 
an'  for  weeks  arter  he  came  home  with  his  bride 
there  was  a  round  o'  gaiety  in  the  town  sech  es 
never  was  afore  nor  since.  Thet  was  so  es  she 
wouldn't  be  lonesome. 

"  Don  sot  great  store  on  her  an'  thar  want 
nothin'  too  good  fer  Melicent.  They  were  just 
es  happy  es  two  cooin'  doves,  an'  everybody  who 
knowed  Don  was  glad,  'cause  everybody  liked 'him, 
yer  see.  Don  was  one  o'  them  kind  er  men  who 
knows  everybody  in  the  country,  an'  who  wa'n't 
ashamed  ter  speak,  nor  ter  shake  hands  with  the 
poorest  man  in  town,  no  matter  whare  he  seed  him. 
An'  he  didn't  wait  till  'lection  time  ter  do  it  nuther. 
He  didn't  set  down  in  his  back  parlor  an'  expect 
folks  ter  bow  down  an'  worship  him  jes  'cause  he 
had  a  little  money  an'  his  great-grandfather  fit  in 
the  Revolushunary  War.  No,  siree !  He  jes  went 

round  among  the  people  an'  did  his  duty  es  er 

439 


430      THE  SINS  OF  THE  FATHERS 

citizen  of  this  er  great  Republic  oughter ;  and  when 
the  war  broke  out,  he  jes  shouldered  his  gun  an' 
marched  away  with  the  boys." 

At  the  word  "  marched  "  Jed  bounded  from  his 
seat  as  though  an  electric  spark  had  touched  him, 
jerked  his  chin  forward,  shouldered  his  fiddle  in 
lieu  of  a  gun,  and  pranced  up  and  down  in  imita- 
tion of  some  martial  hero.  The  effect  was  gro- 
tesque in  the  extreme.  To  maintain  any  sort  of 
gravity  was  out  of  the  question.  Mr.  Bent  simply 
roared  with  laughter;  but  Jed  didn't  mind  it  in 
the  least.  He  strutted  a  dozen  paces  or  so, 
stopped  short  and  shouted,  "  'Bout  face ! " 
wheeled  round,  placed  his  fiddle  in  position,  and 
ambled  back  to  his  seat  to  the  tune  of  "  Marching 
through  Georgia."  Seating  himself  with  as  much 
pomposity  as  a  monarch  would  show  on  taking 
his  throne,  he  picked  up  the  threads  of  his  narra- 
tive. 

"  Yes,  siree ;  he  marched  away  with  a  gun ;  but 
he  didn't  come  back  with  a  gun !  No,  siree ;  he 
came  back  with  a  sword! 

"  But  es  I  was  sayin',  Don  was  mighty  fond 
o'  Mrs.  Bixby ;  'cause  she  sutenly  was  an  angel ! 
Thare  was  only  one  thing  es  worried  him.  He 
was  the  last  o'  the  Bixbys,  an'  he  kinder  sot  his 
heart  on  havin'  a  boy  ter  keep  up  the  family  name. 
But  the  years  went  by  an'  no  boy  came,  nor  girl 
neither  fer  that  matter.  It  was  a  little  disap- 
pointing, to  be  sure ;  but  Don  Bixby  wa'n't  the  man 
ter  grow  cross  an'  sulk  'bout  sech  trifles.  He  jest 


JETHRO'S  STORY  431 

made  the  best  o'  it  an'  went  on  lovin'  Melicent  jes 
the  same  es  if  she'd  had  a  dozen  boys. 

"  When  they  had  been  married  'bout  fifteen 
years,  Mrs.  Bixby  surprised  everybody  by  pre- 
sentin'  Don  with  twins,  two  o'  the  purtiest  little 
boys  ter  be  found  in  the  county.  But  it  was  the 
last  thing  she  ever  did,  poor  dear,  fer  she  died 
within  twenty  minutes  after  they  were  born." 

His  voice  sank  with  a  melancholy  cadence,  and 
a  shade  of  sadness  settled  over  his  wrinkled  face. 
He  paused  in  his  recital  and  his  eyes  wandered  off 
to  a  great  mass  of  white  clouds  edged  with  a  golden 
tint,  floating  lazily  above  the  tree-tops.  Then  his 
thin  hand  swept  over  his  old  fiddle  with  a  caressing 
movement  as  if  he  were  stroking  a  favorite  cat. 
For  a  moment  he  sat  thus,  wrapt  in  the  silence  of 
the  past.  Then  raising  his  fiddle,  his  joy  and 
solace  under  all  circumstances,  he  scraped  out  a 
few  bars  of  "  Annie  Laurie,"  while  great  tears 
coursed  down  his  furrowed  cheeks  and  fell  with  a 
splash  on  the  sounding  board.  His  grief  was  ap- 
parently too  genuine  to  rouse  any  emotion  except 
the  purest  respect ;  and  his  auditors  waited  in 
silence  for  it  to  pass.  The  mood  changed  as 
quickly  as  it  had  come. 

Down  came  the  fiddle ;  out  shot  the  chin ;  his  eye 
resumed  its  abnormal  twitching;  and,  as  if 
ashamed  of  his  momentary  weakness,  he  jerked 
out: 

"  Gosh  durn  it,  Mr.  Bent,  I  never  kin  think  o' 
them  days  'thout  feelin'  kinder  queer ! "  And  he 


432      THE  SINS  OF  THE  FATHERS 

flipped   the   tears   from   his  cheeks  with   a   gentle 
flirt  of  his  forefinger. 

"  Yer  see,  Don  Bixby  wa'n't  never  the  same  ater 
that.  But  he  didn't  go  round  tearin'  his  hair  and 
wringing  his  hands,  an'  snifflin'  and  snufflin',  and 
work  off  his  sorrow  in  a  week  es  some  folks  do. 
Not  he !  He  jest  went  about  so  calm  and  sad  like, 
thet  it  made  everybody  else  sad  ter  see  him. 
Melicent  was  laid  over  there  where  you  see  thet 
moniment  with  the  angel  on  top.  You  kin  read 
her  name  in  gold  letters  there.  *  Melicent,  Be- 
loved wife  of  Don  Bixby.'  And  she  was  beloved, 
not  only  by  Don  Bixby,  but  by  everyone  who 
knowed  her ! 

"  The  next  year  he  built  this  house  and  came 
out  here  to  live,  so  es  he  could  be  near  Melicent. 
He  didn't  sour  on  the  world  though,  es  some  men 
do  when  they  are  hard  hit.  No,  siree !  He  went 
to  town  meeting  jest  the  same  es  before,  and  did 
his  duty  like  a  man.  Only  he  was  changed  — 
he  was  sort  o'  solemn  like. 

"  Well,  sir,  them  two  babies  growed  and  growed 
es  like  es  two  peas  in  a  pod.  Yer  couldn't  tell  'em 
apart,  onless  yer  went  ter  teasin'  em.  Then  yer 
could  tell  'em !  Never  did  the  good  Lord  make  two 
human  critters  more  alike  in  looks  and  less  alike 
in  temper  and  disposition. 

"Don  was  the  elder  by  ten  minutes;  an'  jest 
'cause  he  managed  ter  squirm  into  the  world  ahead 
o'  his  brother,  he  thought  he  owned  the  earth  by 
right  o'  prior  discovery.  He  was  proud  es  Luci- 


JETHRO'S  STORY  433 

fer  and  full  es  crafty,  and  had  a  temper  thet 
couldn't  be  matched  if  you  had  ten  thousand  devils 
to  choose  from.  He  was  called  Don,  after  his 
father;  but  that  wasn't  his  full  name.  The  other 
boy  was  called  Norman,  after  one  of  the  early 
Bixbys,  and  was  just  like  his  father  in  disposition, 
kind  and  gentle  like. 

"  When  Mr.  Bixby  moved  out  here,  he  dis- 
charged all  his  old  servants  except  three:  Sandy 
Moore,  an  old  Scotch  gardener,  and  Jean,  his 
wife,  who  was  the  housekeeper ;  and  a  Miss  Simons, 
the  nurse.  The  nurse  stayed  until  the  boys  were 
about  six  years  old.  When  she  left,  Jean  took 
upon  herself  the  care  of  the  boys ;  and  Mr.  Bixby 
began  their  education.  They  were  so  far  from 
school  thet  Mr.  Bixby  decided  to  teach  them  him- 
self. So  he  had  regular  school  hours  for  them 
and  put  them  to  work  in  earnest.  Then  it  was 
that  he  became  painfully  aware  of  the  pure  cussed- 
ness  of  Don. 

"  He  tutored  them  fill  they  were  about  fifteen, 
when  he  engaged  a  regular  tutor  to  prepare  them 
for  college.  The  tutor  was  an  ex-professor  of 
Harvard,  who  had  been  obliged  to  resign  his  col- 
lege work  on  account  of  ill  health.  He  was  about 
forty  years  of  age  at  the  time ;  and  was  considered 
a  mighty  good  scholar;  but  he  was  not  physically 
strong  at  the  time  he  took  the  position ;  and  I 
tell  you,  it  takes  physical  strength  to  cope  with 
such  natures  as  Don's. 

"  Norman,  with  his  bright,  manly  bearing  and 


434-      THE  SINS  OF  THE  FATHERS 

genial  disposition,  made  a  delightful  companion 
for  the  old  tutor.  On  the  other  hand,  Don,  with 
his  quick,  sulky  temper  and  vicious  propensities, 
was  a  thorn  in  the  side  of  the  tutor  from  the  very 
beginning.  He  was  always  into  some  sort  of 
deviltry ;  and  with  a  cunning  hardly  to  be  credited 
to  one  so  young,  he  would  invariably  throw  the 
blame  of  his  mischief  on  someone  else;  and  that 
someone  else  was  always  either  his  brother  Nor- 
man, or  the  old  tutor.  Oftener  it  was  the  brother 
on  account  of  their  resemblance  to  each  other. 
To  be  able  to  fasten  his  pranks  on  Norman  was  a 
source  of  pleasure  for  the  young  scapegrace,  who 
took  special  delight  in  his  brother's  humiliations. 
Vicious  people  as  a  rule,  are  arrant  cowards,  and 
Don  Bixby  Jr.  was  no  exception  to  the  rule. 

"  Norman  bore  the  censure  meted  out  to  him 
for  his  brother's  misconduct  with  the  patience  and 
humility  of  a  martyr.  But  instead  of  this  hav- 
ing a  good  effect  on  Don  Jr.,  it  just  seemed  to 
rile  him  beyond  measure^  and  then  he  redoubled 
his  efforts  to  keep  Norman  in  disgrace.  Most  of 
the  mischief  was  done  in  the  town ;  and  it  was  so 
contrived  that  Norman  would  be  somewhere  near 
when  the  act  was  committed ;  and  dodging  behind 
trees  and  hedges,  Don  Jr.  would  hike  home  and  es- 
cape, and  Norman  would  be  sure  to  fall  into  the 
trap  and  have  to  pay  the  penalty. 

"  The  tutor  was  not  slow  in  making  this  dis- 
covery and  he  informed  Mr.  Bixby.  To  protect 
Norman,  the  tutor  suggested  that  the  boys  should 


JETHRO'S  STORY  435 

no  longer  dress  alike;  but  that  each  should  have 
his  own  distinctive  color.  This  was  decided  on. 
But  whew !  wa'n't  Don  mad !  It  had  to  be  done 
though.  So  Don  chose  gray  and  Norman  black. 
But  bless  your  soul !  arter  the  first  week,  it  didn't 
mend  matters  one  iota ;  for  Don  would  put  on  Nor- 
man's clothes  and  steal  out  nights  and  cut  up  his 
capers  jest  the  same.  The  tutor  expostulated 
with  him  and  threatened  to  put  his  father  on  his 
track.  Then  he  got  wild  like,  called  the  tutor  a 
sneak,  and  swore  a  big  oath  thet  he'd  get  even  with 
him. 

"  Well,  sir,  one  night  the  tutor  resolved  ter  fol- 
low him  and  try  to  dissuade  him  from  his  evil  ways. 
Don  didn't  say  a  word  when  he  saw  the  tutor  at 
his  heels.  He  jest  went  right  along  es  though  he 
didn't  care,  straight  up  thet  path,"  pointing  to  a 
narrow  path  which  led  to  a  grape  arbor  and  thence 
to  the  cemetery  gate.  "  He  opened  the  gate  with 
a  key  which  he  took  from  his  pocket  and  passed 
through.  All  this  time  the  tutor  was  talking  to 
him,  begging  him  to  return  to  the  house  and  give 
up  whatever  deviltry  he  had  planned  for  the  night, 
and  not  disgrace  his  father  any  more. 

"  He  never  so  much  as  answered  the  tutor ;  but 
he  held  the  gate  open  for  him  to  pass  through,  and 
gave  him  a  wicked  look  as  he  passed  by  into  the 
cemetery.  Then  he  closed  the  gate  and  locked  it, 
and  turning  quickly,  struck  the  tutor  a  tremendous 
blow  on  the  head  with  something  hard  and  heavy ; 
and  that  was  the  last  the  tutor  knew  for  ages. 


436      THE  SINS  OF  THE  FATHERS 

"  When  the  tutor  regained  consciousness,  he 
found  himself  in  the  vault,  all  covered  with  blood, 
and  so  weak  that  he  couldn't  stir;  but  he  could  see 
where  he  was ;  for  the  coffins  were  piled  up  around 
him.  Arter  a  while  he  began  to  hear  strange 
noises.  Then  the  coffins  all  began  ter  open  an' 
pretty  soon  all  the  skeletons  o'  all  the  Bixbys  fcr 
generations  back  stepped  out  an'  began  ter  dance 
an'  yell,  an'  ter  rattle  their  dry  bones  at  him." 

He  closed  his  eyes  and  shuddered  and  remained 
silent  for  several  minutes.  His  auditors  shuddered 
also,  and  a  creepy  feeling  ran  over  Mrs.  Bent  and 
Ruth ;  but  they  did  not  speak. 

"  Well,  sir,  he  was  in  thet  tomb  fer  three  nights 
an'  two  days  afore  they  found  him,  though  it 
seemed  ages  to  him.  Yer  see,  when  he  didn't  put 
in  an  appearance  fer  breakfast  next  morning,  an' 
Jean  saw  thet  his  bed  had  not  been  disturbed,  Nor- 
man suspected  thet  something  was  wrong;  fer  the 
tutor  had  told  him  'bout  Don's  night  rambles,  and 
thet  he  was  going  to  follow  him  some  .night,  so  he 
told  his  father,  and  then  Mr.  Bixby  took  Don  in 
tow.  Of  course  Don  didn't  know  anything  about 
the  tutor  and  acted  the  roll  of  injured  innocence 
ter  perfection.  But  his  father  was  firm  and  locked 
him  up,  and  even  threatened  him  with  the  law. 
Still  he  wouldn't  tell ;  and  it  was  by  sheer  accident 
that  Mr.  Bixby  when  he  went  into  the  cemetery  on 
the  third  morning  after  the  disappearance  of  the 
tutor,  stumbled  across  a  big  stick  covered  with 
blood,  near  the  gate.  Then  he  found  a  trail  of 


JETHRO'S  STORY  4*37 

blood  and  traced  it  to  the  tomb  door.  He  opened 
the  door  and  almost  fainted  at  the  sight  that  met 
his  gaze.  There  lay  the  tutor  on  top  of  one  of 
the  coffins,  more  dead  than  alive.  He  was  car- 
ried to  the  house  and  the  doctor  sent  for  and 
everything  done  for  him  that  could  be  done;  but 
he  never  was  the  same  afterwards.  Mr.  Bixby 
was  a  father  to  him;  and  told  him  this  was  to  be 
his  home  es  long  es  he  lived.  He  was  made  one  of 
the  family,  an*  could  go  an'  come  es  he  pleased  es 
long  es  the  family  lived  here. 

"  One  morning  in  August  of  that  same  year,  Mr. 
Bixby  sent  for  the  boys  to  come  to  his  study. 
They  came  stumbling  up  the  back  stairs,  laughing 
and  shouting,  and  bounded  into  the  room  as  only 
healthy  boys  can. 

"  *  Boys,'  said  Mr.  Bixby,  when  they  had  re- 
covered their  breath  sufficiently  to  listen.  Then 
he  paused  as  if  he  had  something  to  say  that  kinder 
stuck  in  his  throat.  '  Boys,'  he  repeated,  '  how 
would  you  like  to  go  to  college?  ' 

"  The  eyes  of  both  boys  lighted  up  and  Don 
answered  offhand, 

"  '  Oh,  that  would  be  bully,  Pa! ' 

"Norman  didn't  reply;  he  just  stood  with  his 
hand  resting  on  the  back  of  his  father's  chair. 
The  smile  had  faded  from  his  lips,  and  he  looked 
sort  of  sad  like. 

"'And  what  does  Norman  say?'  asked  Mr. 
Bixby,  noticing  the  changed  expression  of  his 
face. 


438      THE  SINS  OF  THE  FATHERS 

"  '  Oh,  I  should  like  to  go,  Pa ;  but  what  will 
you  do?  You  will  be  so  lonely  here  without  us,' 
answered  Norman,  his  voice  quivering  in  spite  of 
his  efforts  to  control  it. 

'<*  '  Listen  to  the  sick  baby  mewling  for  his  pap  ! ' 
sneered  Don,  turning  a  scornful  glance  on  his 
brother. 

"  '  Come,  Don,  that  is  sufficient ! '  interrupted 
Mr.  Bixby  sternly.  Then  rising  from  his  seat,  and 
laying  his  hand  tenderly  on  the  lad's  shoulder,  he 
continued  in  a  softer  tone,  '  Don,  my  boy,  it  would 
be  far  better  for  you  if  you  could  mewl,  as  you  call 
it,  a  little  bit,  be  it  ever  so  little.  I  should  be  a 
happy  man  this  day  could  I  see  a  little  tenderness 
creep  into  your  heart.' 

"  Don  hung  his  head  in  dogged  silence  as  his 
father  went  on : 

"  *  This  lack  of  natural  kindliness  in  your  make- 
up, Don,  has  long  been  a  source  of  sorrow  to  me ; 
and  has  caused  me  to  hesitate  about  sending  you 
away  from  my  restraining  hand.  At  college  you 
will  be  among  strangers,  young  men  of  your  own 
age,  and  older ;  among  whom  exists  a  certain  code 
of  honor  whichf  you  will  be  expected  to  live  up  to. 
They  will  not  always  tolerate  your  hasty  words  and 
ungenerous  actions ;  and  I  sometimes  fear  for  the 
consequences.  My  boy,  for  the  sake  of  the  name 
you  bear,  a  name  that  has  never  yet  borne  a  stain 
of  dishonor;  and  for  the  sake  of  your  angel  mother, 
whose  life  paid  the  ransom  for  yours,  learn  to  curb 
your  ugly  temper!  Try  also  to  overcome  that 


JETHRO'S  STORY  439 

pernicious  habit  of  sneering  at  the  little  good  you 
happen  to  see  in  your  fellow-men.  Cultivate  kind- 
ness and  generosity  towards  all.  Such  a  spirit  will 
make  you,  if  not  a  great  man,  certainly  a  good 
man,  which  I  consider  better.  Always  remember 
what  the  good  book  says :  '  He  that  is  slow  to 
anger  is  better  than  the  mighty ;  and  he  that  ruleth 
his  spirit  than  he  that  taketh  a  city.'  My  desire 
is  that  you  become  good  rather  than  mighty." 
His  manner  had  grown  eloquent  as  he  proceeded, 
and  great  tears  rolled  down  his  cheeks  as  he  gazed 
on  his  wayward  son. 

"  Don  stood  in  passive  silence.  Not  the  quiver 
of  a  muscle  betrayed  his  inward  feelings;  not  a 
penitent  word  or  look  did  he  give  to  raise  a  hope 
in  his  father's  breast.  His  stoic  manner  quite  un- 
manned the  old  gentleman,  and  he  sank  in  his 
chair  with  a  deep  drawn  sigh. 

"  For  a  moment  an  oppressive  silence  reigned  in 
the  room,  broken  only  by  the  tick  of  the  great  clock 
in  the  corner;  when  suddenly  Don  broke  in  with: 

"  *  When  are  we  going,  Pa?  ' 

"  Don  didn't  even  look  at  his  father  when  he 
spoke. 

"  The  question  and  the  tone  in  which  it  was 
asked  sounded  strangely  cold  and  unsympathetic 
to  the  ears  of  his  sensitive  father  just  at  that  time. 
It  brought  him  back  to  the  present  with  a  start, 
and  with  an  unpleasant  feeling  that  an  immeasur- 
able gulf  had  suddenly  yawned  between  him  and 
this  fractious  son.  He  looked  at  him  sadly. 


440      THE  SINS  OF  THE  FATHERS 

"'In  about  four  weeks.  That  is  all  now,  boys; 
you  may  go.'  He  tried  to  speak  calmly ;  but  his 
voice  trembled  painfully. 

"  During  all  this  time,  Norman  had  stood  be- 
hind his  father's  chair  with  his  hand  resting  lightly 
on  the  back  of  it.  When  Mr.  Bixby  dismissed  the 
boys,  Don  turned  on  his  heel  and  left  the  room 
without  a  word  and  rushed  pell-mell  down  the 
stairs;  but  Norman  stooped  over  and  kissed  his 
father  on  the  forehead  with  the  tenderness  of  a 
girl. 

"  '  Father,'  he  said,  his  voice  trembling  slightly, 
'  let  me  stay  at  home  with  you.' 

"  Mr.  Bixby  took  the  hand  that  had  crept  si- 
lently into  his  and  said  gently, 

"  '  No,  Norman,  you  shall  both  go.  I  am  grow- 
ing old,  and  I  would  like  to  see  you  both  settled  in 
your  chosen  professions  before  I  pass  to  the  Great 
Beyond.  I  have  no  fears  for  you,  my  lad,  for 
you  are  too  much  like  your  sainted  mother  to 
ever  stoop  to  do  a  dishonorable  act.  Yes,  you 
are  like  your  mother ! '  he  said,  his  voice  tender 
with  emotion.  Then  in  a  sudden  burst  of  impa- 
tience he  sprang  to  his  feet  exclaiming,  '  But  Don 
is  an  insidious  devil ! ' 

"  His  head  dropped  on  his  breast,  as  if  he  was 
ashamed  to  look  the  world  in  the  face,  and  he 
paced  the  room  excitedly.  Norman  waited  till 
his  father  calmed  down  a  little,  then  approached 
him,  saying,  as  he  threw  his  arm  across  the 
trembling  shoulders, 


JETHRO'S  STORY  441 

"  *  Have  patience,  Pa.  Don  may  change  when 
he  grows  older.' 

"  The  father  stopped  in  his  walk,  and  taking  the 
fair,  almost  girlish  face  between  his  palms  said 
softly, 

"  '  Let  us  hope  so,  Norman  !  Now  leave  me ;  I 
have  some  writing  to  do.'  He  stooped  and  kissed 
the  fair  face  and  released  it ;  and  turning  away, 
seated  himself  at  his  desk. 

"  Norman  bade  his  father  a  respectful  '  good- 
morning  '  and  retired.  Down  the  back  stairs  and 
out  of  the  kitchen  door  he  went,  and  stood  on  the 
steps,  looking  very  sad  and  solemn.  Don  was 
lying  stretched  at  full  length  on  the  grass  under 
this  apple-tree;  but  Norman  didn't  notice  him. 

"  '  Hello,  sniveler! '  jeered  Don,  loud  enough  to 
reach  his  father  through  the  open  window  of  his 
study.  '  Did  him  get  an  extra  sugar-plum  for 
being  a  doody  boy?  ' 

"  Norman  strode  over  to  where  he  lay ;  his 
flushed  face  and  clenched  fists  showed  the  intensity 
of  his  anger.  He  hissed  rather  than  spoke, 

"  *  Don  Bixby,  I  feel  like  thrashing  you  to 
within  an  inch  of  your  life ! ' 

"  *  Why  don't  the  girlie  try  it  on?  '  sneered  Don 
without  stirring. 

"  *  Because  it  would  add  more  pain  to  that  which 
your  heartless  conduct  has  already  given  to  the 
noblest  of  fathers  ! '  replied  Norman,  looking  down 
on  his  counterpart  with  a  curl  of  contempt  on  his 
handsome  lips. 


442      THE  SINS  OF  THE  FATHERS 

"  '  Oh,  I  suppose  my  prowess  is  not  taken  into 
account  in  your  burst  of  parental  championship ! ' 
said  Don  with  a  provoking  yawn. 

"'Prowess?'  exclaimed  Norman  scornfully, 
'  brutality  you  mean.' 

"  '  Just  as  it  suits  your  lordship.  The  distinc- 
tion between  the  terms  was  too  fine  to  be  perceiv- 
able in  the  days  of  Brian  de  Bois  Guilbert,  and  I 
see  no  necessity  for  stretching  the  point  at  this 
late  day.  His  tone  and  manner,  though  calm, 
was  exasperating. 

"  *  Have  you  no  conception  of  filial  duty ! '  ex- 
claimed Norman  indignantly. 

"  Not  if  whining  like  a  sick  girl,  or  licking  the 
old  man's  hand,  as  a  whipped  cur  licks  that  of  his 
master,  on  every  trivial  occasion  constitutes  duty,' 
he  replied  sneeringly,  clasping  his  hands  under 
his  head  and  gazing  up  among  the  motionless 
leaves. 

"  '  For  shame !  Don  Bixby !  to  show  such  disre- 
gard for  the  feelings  of  a  father  who  has  unself- 
ishly devoted  the  best  years  of  his  life  in  trying  to 
make  you  in  spirit  what  you  are  in  name,  a  Bixby. 
Is  there  not  even  a  spark  of  honor  in  your  soul ! ' 
exclaimed  Norman  passionately,  with  a  half  pity- 
ing, half  appealing  look  into  the  upturned  face  at 
his  feet. 

"  '  I  fear  not ! '  he  answered  indolently,  heaving 
a  mock  sigh  of  regret.  '  All  the  family  virtues 
seem  to  have  been  doled  out  to  you.  Patience, 
affection,  gentleness,  honor,  and  courage,  all  these, 


JETHRO'S  STORY  443 

nature,  in  her  prodigality,  has  spread  over  y.ou. 
Nay,  more,  she  has  patted  them  in  to  each  crevice 
of  your  carcass  with  such  lavishness  that  she  had 
none  left  wherewith  to  garnish  me  to  a  decent 
seasoning.  Why,  even  now  you  are  swelling,  al- 
most to  bursting  with  that  gentleness  of  spirit 
which  passeth  all  understanding.' 

"  The  stinging  sarcasm  of  this  last  rejoinder 
cut  to  the  quick,  and  fanned  Norman's  righteous 
anger  to  a  white  heat.  He  longed  to  throttle  the 
arrant  rogue ;  but  the  knowledge  of  his  father's 
disapproval  of  anything  savoring  of  a  brawl  be- 
tween his  sons  held  him  in  check.  Knowing  the 
utter  futility  of  further  expostulation,  and  blows 
being  out  of  the  question,  Norman  turned  upon  his 
heel  and  strode  rapidly  away,  followed  by  a  peal 
of  derisive  laughter  from  the  victorious  Don. 

"  Norman's  blood  boiled  with  indignation  and 
resentment ;  and  on  reaching  the  gate  he  paused 
in  indecision.  A  strong  inclination  impelled  him 
to  return  and  have  it  out  with  the  unfeeling  scamp. 
Clutching  the  gate  with  one  hand,  and  wheeling 
half-way  round,  as  if  to  obey  this  natural  impulse, 
he  happened  to  raise  his  eyes.  There  at  the  study 
window  stood  his  father,  smiling  upon  him.  He 
read  approbation  in  the  smile,  and  rightly  sur- 
mised that  his  father  had  seen  and  heard  all  that 
had  passed.  The  laughter  of  Don  instantly  lost 
its  cutting  edge.  His  father's  eyes  seemed  to 
say: 

" '  You    have    done    right,    my    boy ;    brothers 


444      THE  SINS  OF  THE  FATHERS 

should  never  come  to  blows,  no  matter  what  the 
provocation ! ' 

"  Norman  bowed  his  head  in  submission,  opened 
the  gate,  passed  out,  and  walked  rapidly  up  the 
road.  He  placed  a  long  stretch  of  the  open  coun- 
try road  between  himself  and  Don;  then  vaulting 
the  fence,  he  crossed  several  fields,  and  plunged 
into  the  woods.  And  there,  finding  a  secluded 
spot  on  the  border  of  the  lake,  he  threw  himself 
on  the  ground  to  think. 

"  In  the  past  Norman's  sensitive  nature  had  re- 
ceived many  a  wound  through  the  splenitive  tem- 
per of  Don,  which  time  in  a  measure  had  healed. 
Norman  could  forgive  where  only  he  himself  were 
concerned.  But  here  was  another  matter.  His 
father  had  been  insulted.  And  that  insult  dealt 
to  his  father  opened  a  breach  between  himself  and 
Don  which,  so  he  felt,  time  would  be  powerless  to 
close.  He  was  done  with  Don  forever.  His  heart 
had  received  a  wound  which  all  the  balm  of  Gilead 
could  not  heal. 

"  Lying  prone  on  the  cool,  fragrant  earth,  his 
hot  cheeks  fanned  by  the  forest  breezes,  his  anger 
soon  passed  away  and  left  him  calm  and  collected. 
Up  to  the  moment  of  the  proposition  made  by  his 
father,  scarcely  an  hour  before,  Norman  Bixby 
had  been  merely  a  great  healthy  boy  at  heart. 
The  thought  of  going  to  college  sent  a  new  cur- 
rent through  his  veins,  and  awakened  a  train  of 
thoughts  in  his  mind  which  suddenly  transformed 
him  into  a  man ;  and  his  parley  with  Don  brought 


JETHRO'S  STORY  445 

home  the  ugly  fact  that,  though  brothers,  they 
had  nothing  in  common. 

"  The  truth  struck  him  so  forcibly  that  it  stag- 
gered him  for  a  while.  Try  as  he  would,  he  could 
not  rid  himself  of  the  feeling  that  Don  and  he  had 
reached  the  parting  of  the  ways,  and  that  each, 
perhaps  unconsciously,  had  branched  into  his 
chosen  path;  and  furthermore,  that  those  paths 
had  already  diverged  to  a  considerable  degree. 
He  reviewed  the  whole  course  of  his  life,  and 
planned  his  future  as  calmly  as  if  he  were  twenty- 
five  instead  of  nineteen.  In  this  review  of  the  past 
and  plan  of  the  future,  Don  was  a  prominent  fig- 
ure. Norman  could  recall  no  act  of  his  domineer- 
ing brother  which  did  not  savor  of  tyranny,  insult, 
or  oppression ;  all  of  which  he  had  borne  with  the 
patience  of  a  cowed  child.  Such  patience  was  no 
longer  permissible.  It  was  inconsistent  with  an 
honorable  manhood ;  and  he  must  devise  ways  and 
means  to  break  Don's  power  over  him ;  and  at  the 
same  time  avoid  an  open  rupture. 

"  After  an  hour's  deliberation  he  had  reached 
one  conclusion :  namely,  that  he  would  not  enter 
the  same  college  with  Don.  Beyond  this,  his 
plans,  though  clear,  were  not  conclusive,  but  were 
made  subject  to  the  approval  of  his  father.  By 
this  time  the  sun  had  risen  high,  and  its  scorching 
heat,  beating  down  between  the  branches  on  his 
upturned  face,  reminded  him  that  noon  was  ap- 
proaching; so  he  rose,  and  leisurely  wended  his 
way  homeward. 


446      THE  SINS  OF  THE  FATHERS 

"  When  he  reached  home  lunch  was  ready,  and 
hastily  removing  all  traces  of  his  long,  dusty  walk, 
he  joined  his  father  and  Don  at  the  table.  There 
was  a  cold  reserve  in  his  bearing  when  he  an- 
swered a  question  put  to  him  by  Don,  which  his 
father  was  quick  to  perceive,  and  a  proud  look  in 
his  eye  that  gave  an  added  charm  to  his  handsome 
face. 

"  It  was  evident  to  Norman  that  something  had 
gone  contrary  to  Don's  expectations,  for  he  ate 
his  dinner  in  sullen  silence,  a  mood  he  generally 
adopted  when  things  didn't  just  suit  him.  When 
dessert  was  served  Mr.  Bixby  leaned  back  in  his 
chair,  and  toying  with  his  spoon,  said, 

"  *  Norman,  I  have  been  thinking  the  matter 
over  in  regard  to  the  colleges  you  boys  are  to 
enter;  and  I  have  decided  on  Harvard  for  you  and 
Dartmouth  for  Don.  How  does  that  arrangement 
suit  you? ' 

"  '  It  suits  me  to  a  T ! '  replied  Norman,  exult- 
ingly,  his  face  lighting  up  to  learn  that  his  father 
had  anticipated  his  wishes. 

"  *  Of  course  it  will  suit  him,'  snarled  Don. 
'Why  shouldn't  it?  But  I  don't  think  it's  fair 
just  the  same.  I  am  the  older  and  should  go  to 
the  larger  college.  If  there  is  anything  to  be 
gained  I  am  entitled  to  it.  But  I  think  we  should 
both  go  to  the  same  college.' 

"  *  The  difference  between  your  ages,  Don,  is 
so  slight  that  it  has  no  weight  as  against  what  I 
think  is  best  for  all  concerned.  For  the  present, 


JETHRO'S  STORY  447 

you  go  to  Dartmouth.  If  you  come  out  with  a 
good  record  there  is  no  reason  why  you  shouldn't 
go  to  Harvard  for  your  M.D.  It  all  depends  on 
yourself.'  He  rose  from  the  table  as  he  finished 
speaking,  which  signified  that  the  matter  was 
closed,  and  turned  to  leave  the  room. 

"  Don  rose  from  the  table  also,  and  giving  his 
chair  a  vicious  kick  backwards,  sent  it  skimming 
across  the  highly  polished  floor.  The  scratching 
noise  made  by  the  moving  chair,  arrested  his 
father's  attention ;  and  turning  quickly,  Mr. 
Bixby  caught  the  look  of  hatred  which  Don  had 
flashed  after  him.  The  surprise  was  mutual ;  but 
ere  either  could  speak,  the  chair  which  Don  had 
sent  scudding  behind  him  brought  up  short  against 
a  small  mahogany  table  on  which  a  winged  Mer- 
cury of  Parian  marble  stood  balancing  himself 
gracefully  on  the  tips  of  the  toes  of  his  right  foot. 
There  was  a  thud,  a  crash,  a  mix-up  of  splintering 
furniture,  and  amidst  the  wreck,  lay  the  beautiful 
statuette  shattered  in  a  hundred  pieces. 

"  All  eyes  were  instantly  bent  upon  the  debris. 
Don  wheeled  quickly  and  his  cheeks  blanched  when 
he  saw  the  result  of  his  ugly  temper;  for  the  stat- 
uette belonged  to  him  and  he  had  prized  it  highly. 
For  once  Don  was  dismayed.  The  dismay,  how- 
ever, was  not  caused  wholly  by  the  sight  of  the 
ruin  he  had  wrought,  but  mainly  by  the  thought 
that  his  father  had  seen  the  momentary  gleam  of 
hatred  in  his  eyes.  He  feared  his  father  might 
construe  it  to  mean  more  than  it  really  meant. 


448      THE  SINS  OF  THE  FATHERS 

Though  wholly  lacking  in  natural  affection,  still 
Don  cherished  a  sort  of  filial  respect  for  his  father ; 
and  he  did  not  wish  to  forfeit  entirely  the  little 
confidence  his  father  retained  in  him. 

"  Silence  reigned  for  several  seconds  after  the 
crash.  Then  raising  his  eyes,  Don  met  the  sor- 
rowful gaze  of  his  father  fixed  on  him.  Hanging 
his  head  in  a  sort  of  sulky  penitence,  he  muttered, 

"  '  I  didn't  mean  it,  Father.' 

"  Mr.  Bixby,  ever  ready  to  catch  at  the  slight- 
est straw  to  save  his  boy,  accepted  even  this  small 
show  of  regret  as  a  peace  offering.  But  realizing 
that  for  him  to  allow  the  matter  to  pass  unre- 
buked  would  be  unwise,  he  said  quietly, 

"  '  Don,  I  will  see  you  in  my  study.'  Then  he 
left  the  room,  closely  followed  by  Don,  who  ap- 
peared to  be  very  much  cowed  by  the  turn  affairs 
had  taken. 

**  Just  what  took  place  in  the  study  never  tran- 
spired; but  for  the  rest  of  the  summer  Don  was 
on  his  good  behavior;  and  while  Norman  could 
not  quite  forget  the  past,  he  was  inclined  to  meet 
the  good  offices  of  Don  half-way ;  and  the  last 
week  of  their  stay  at  home  was  the  most  peaceful 
of  their  lives. 

"  The  morning  of  their  departure  for  college 
arrived.  A  dull,  murky  sky,  with  a  light  driz- 
zling rain,  served  somewhat  to  dampen  the  ardor 
of  their  youthful  spirits.  For  who  so  callous  as 
not  to  feel  the  depressing  influence  of  a  heavy 
atmosphere  at  such  a  time,  a  time  when  home  ties 


JETHRO'S  STORY  449 

are  about  to  be  broken,  perhaps,  forever.  The 
wagon  with  the  trunks  had  already  started  for 
the  depot;  and  the  family  carriage  stood  at  the 
gate,  with  the  horses  impatiently  champing  their 
bits  and  pawing  the  ground,  as  if  they  too  felt  the 
gloom  impending  over  the  house. 

"  Mr.  Bixby,  with  his  hands  clasped  behind  his 
back,  paced  the  floor  of  his  study.  He  was  wait- 
ing for  the  boys,  who  were  to  meet  him  there  for 
a  few  last  words.  It  was  evident  that  he  felt  the 
parting  keenly,  for  the  lines  in  his  face  were  deeper 
and  he  seemed  to  stoop  more  than  usual.  They 
came  at  last ;  and  it  was  plain  to  be  seen  that  they 
too  felt  the  pangs  of  parting,  for  their  manner 
was  subdued  and  quiet. 

"  After  a  few  words  of  greeting  Mr.  Bixby 
opened  a  secret  drawer  in  his  secretary,  before 
which  he  had  seated  himself,  and  took  therefrom  a 
small  casket  of  blue  velvet.  He  held  it  on  his  out- 
stretched palm  and  gazed  for  several  seconds  ten- 
derly on  the  oblong  bit  of  faded  blue.  Then 
touching  a  hidden  clasp,  the  lid  flew  open.  Both 
boys  gave  an  exclamation  of  wonder.  And  well 
they  might ;  for  there  on  a  bed  of  soft  blue  satin, 
lay  two  tiny  glittering  serpents.  On  a  closer  look 
the  boys  saw  that  the  serpents  were  designed  for 
finger  rings,  and  were  exactly  alike  in  workman- 
ship. The  serpents  lay  coiled  in  a  natural  posi- 
tion, their  heads  slightly  raised,  as  though  ready 
to  spring,  with  their  forked  tongues  protruding 
from  between  their  wide  gaping  jaws.  Each 


450      THE  SINS  OF  THE  FATHERS 

fork  was  tipped  with  a  ruby,  and  rows  of  diamonds 
were  set  in  the  jaws  in  imitation  of  teeth.  Eyes 
of  emeralds  of  the  greenest  hue  emitted  a  peculiar 
light.  And  like  a  delicate  mosaic,  the  bodies  were 
wrought  in  scale-like  links,  each  scale  being 
studded  with  minute  gems  of  various  kinds. 

"  Holding  the  casket  where  the  gray  light, 
streaming  in  through  the  windows,  fell  aslant  the 
gems  as  they  nestled  among  the  shimmering  folds 
of  blue,  the  jewels  seemed  to  take  fire.  They  scin- 
tillated with  a  soft  glow  until  the  serpents  ap- 
peared to  writhe  and  then  to  be  actually  alive. 

"  '  Boys,'  slowly  began  Mr.  Bixby,  his  eyes  still 
fixed  on  the  rings,  '  these  rings  were  sent  to  your 
mother  as  a  wedding  gift  from  a  very  dear  friend 
in  India.  One  was  for  her;  the  other,  for  me. 
Your  mother,  having  a  strong  antipathy  to  ser- 
pents —  as  indeed  most  women  have  —  would 
never  wear  hers ;  and  I,  because  of  her  dislike  to 
their  form,  would  never  wear  mine ;  and  for  nearly 
thirty-five  years  they  have  lain  in  their  casket  un- 
disturbed. As  you  can  readily  see,  they  are  of 
immense  value;  and  besides,  there  is  an  Oriental 
myth  attached  to  their  history. 

"  *  When  your  mother  lay  on  her  deathbed,  she 
requested  me  to  keep  the  rings  until  her  baby  boys 
were  old  enough  to  go  to  college,  and  then  to  give 
one  to  each,  with  her  blessing ;  and  to  tell  her  boys 
that  so  long  as  they  remained  upright  and  honor- 
able, the  jewels  would  retain  their  luster.  But 
should  her  boys  depart  from  the  path  of  rectitude, 


JETHRO'S  STORY  451 

then  immediately  the  fires  of  the  jewels  would  be 
quenched.  I  promised  to  carry  out  her  wishes, 
and  shortly  after  she  passed  away.* 

"  Picking  up  the  rings,  he  placed  one  on  the 
finger  of  each  of  the  boys,  saying  as  he  did  so : 

"  *  These  are  the  legacies  of  your  sainted 
mother.  Whenever  you  look  upon  them  think  of 
her  and  remember  that  her  last  thoughts  were  of 
her  boys  and  of  their  possible  future.  May  these 
tokens  of  her  love  be  an  incentive  to  each  of  you 
to  strive  to  reach  the  highest  goal  of  honorable 
manhood.  Let  your  motto  be :  "  For  her  sake." 

"  A  few  moments  later  they  were  all  on  their 
way  to  the  depot,  where  Mr.  Bixby  saw  them  off, 
each  to  his  respective  destination." 


CHAPTER  XXVII 
JETHRO'S  STORY  (Continued) 

"  The  first  two  years  passed  away  with  little  of 
note,  more  than  pertains  to  life  in  general,  to 
break  the  monotony  of  the  daily  routine  which 
had  fallen  to  the  lot  of  the  family  at  the  '  Maples.' 

"  '  The  boys  are  hame  agin,'  whispered  Jean  to 
a  young  lady  whom  she  met  in  the  aisle  as  she  en- 
tered church  on  the  first  Sunday  after  the  return 
of  Don  and  Norman  for  their  second  summer's 
vacation. 

"  '  So  I  see,"  replied  the  young  lady  with  a  droll 
smile,  glancing  in  the  direction  of  the  Bixby  pew, 
where  Mr.  Bixby  and  his  two  handsome  sons  were 
seated,  the  observed  of  all  observers.  '  Rather 
overgrown  boys  though,  I  should  say.' 

"  Jean  gave  a  little  smothered  laugh,  and  apolo- 
gized. 

"  *  Ah,  weal,  Lida,  ye  ken  they  are  only  boys 
tae  me.  I  hae  na'  got  used  tae  cauin'  them 
"  young  gentlemen  "  yet.' 

"  *  Oh,  I  am  willing  to  forgive  you  for  the  mis- 
nomer, Jean,'  hastily  replied  the  young  lady,  with 
an  arch  smile.  '  Only  I  must  warn  you  not  to  let 

Don  hear  you  talking  about  the  boys ;  for  I  am 
452 


JETHRO'S  STORY  453 

inclined  to  think  he  will  resent  being  called  a  boy 
now.' 

"  *  Aye,  it  is  nae  like  Don  tae  tak  onything  at 
its  true  worth,'  said  Jean,  shaking  her  head 
gravely.  Then  looking  earnestly  into  the  face  of 
the  young  lady,  she  continued :  '  An'  I  maun  gie 
you  a  wee  bit  warning  tae.  Dinna  cast  those  bon- 
nie  eens  in  the  face  o'  Fate !  Keep  them  aff  the 
Bixby  pew  the  day  ! '  And  with  this  homely  coun- 
sel, Jean  left  her  and  walked  sedately  down  the 
aisle  to  her  seat. 

"  The  bonnie  eyes  referred  to  followed  the  mov- 
ing figure  of  Jean  with  a  queer  expression,  half 
question,  half  surprise  in  their  depths.  Not  till 
Jean  was  seated  in  her  pew  behind  Norman  Bixby 
did  the  full  import  of  Jean's  meaning  become  clear 
to  the  owner  of  those  bonnie  eyes. 

"  As  Jean  settled  herself  in  her  seat,  Norman 
turned  half  round  to  hand  her  an  open  hymn-book. 
As  he  did  so,  he  raised  his  eyes  and  met  the  puzzled 
gaze  of  Lida  Gray,  standing  just  where  Jean  had 
left  her  a  moment  before.  He  smiled  and  bowed 
in  recognition  and  immediately  turned  away,  lest 
anyone  should  detect  the  light  in  his  eyes. 

"  Lida  smiled  and  blushed  crimson ;  and  a  pecul- 
iar feeling  permeated  her  whole  being.  She  un- 
derstood Jean's  warning  in  part  now,  and  wanted 
to  cry  out, 

"  '  Ah,  Jean,  your  warning  came  too  late !  I 
had  already  tempted  Fate  ere  you  spoke ! ' 

Jed  broke  off  his  narrative  as  though  suddenly 


THE  SINS  OF  THE  FATHERS 

recollecting  himself,  uncrossed  his  legs  with  a  nerv- 
ous twitch  of  his  whole  body,  shot  his  chin  forward 
toward  Mrs.  Bent,  and  asked, 

"  Jer  ever  sec  Lida  Gray?  " 

"  Do  you  mean  Miss  Gray  who  lives  in  the  white 
cottage  below?  " 

"  The  same ;  hes  she  ever  called  on  yer  ?  " 

"  No,  but  I  have  met  her  and  have  walked  home 
with  her  several  times." 

"  Nice  person,  hey?  " 

"Very." 

"  Come  ter  think  o'  it,  I  wonder  why  she  didn't 
let  me  know  the  old  place  was  occypied,"  he  mused, 
his  face  assuming  a  meditative  expression  as  his 
eyes  wandered  wistfully  over  the  meadows  to  a  big 
red  chimney  just  visible  above  the  treetops. 

"  Miss  Gray  has  been  away  since  early  in  July 
and  only  returned  last  Saturday.  I  doubt 
whether  she  knows  of  our  having  the  house.  You 
know  we  boarded  in  town  up  to  our  coming  out 
here,"  explained  Mrs.  Bent. 

"  Oh,  thet  accounts  fer  it ! "  exclaimed  Jed  with 
a  deep  drawn  sigh  of  relief,  speaking  more  to  him- 
self than  to  Mrs.  Bent.  After  a  short  pause  he 
asked,  "  Do  you  call  her  pretty  ?  " 

"  I  call  her  handsome  rather  than  pretty,"  re- 
plied Mrs.  Bent,  smiling  at  the  manner  in  which 
the  question  was  put  rather  than  at  the  question 
itself.  "  She  is  what  might  be  termed  a  matured 
beauty;  and  besides,  she  is  a  very  superior  per- 
son." 


JETHRO'S  STORY  455 

"  Jes  so,"  assented  Jed  with  a  smile  of  ap- 
proval. "  She  alers  was  a  superior  pusson,  even 
when  she  was  no  bigger  'n  a  pint  o'  cider.  Yer 
see  the  Grays  were  the  nearest  neighbors  o'  the 
Bixbys  when  they  moved  out  here;  an'  Lida,  who 
was  just  one  year  younger  than  the  boys,  was  the 
only  playfellow  they  ever  had.  She  made  an  ideal 
companion  for  the  lonely  little  fellows,  'cause  she 
was  so  sweet  an*  winsome  like.  She  had  tact  and 
force  as  well,  which  operated  as  a  sort  of  balance 
between  the  uneven  tempers  of  the  boys,  many 
times  preventing  Don  from  carrying  his  dominance 
too  far,  and  Norman,  from  sinking  into  a  state  of 
absolute  servility  to  Don's  whims.  Her  influence 
was  a  sort  of  check  to  one,  and  spur  to  the  other, 
as  it  were. 

"  Things  went  along  finely  until  Lida  was  fif- 
teen, when  she  was  sent  away  ter  boarding  school. 
That  was  the  year  the  tutor  came  to  the  Maples. 
The  boys  missed  her  terribly  that  fust  year  she 
was  gone,  especially  Norman ;  an'  he  spent  more'n 
half  his  time  writing  to  her.  Lida  wrote  every 
week  ter  Norman ;  and  once  in  a  while  she  would 
write  to  Don. 

"  Yer  see,  Norman  was  her  favorite,  'cause  he 
never  got  angry  as  Don  did ;  and  there  was  a  kind 
o'  chivalry  in  his  nature  thet  alers  appeals  ter 
girls  like  Lida.  It  was  he  who  helped  her  over 
the  stone  walls  and  rough  places ;  he  who  gave  her 
the  largest  nuts  and  most  luscious  berries  to  be 
found  in  their  long  rambles  through  the  woods ; 


456      THE  SINS  OF  THE  FATHERS 

and  once,  when  a  storm  came  up  suddenly,  he  took 
off  his  coat  an'  wrapped  it  about  her  ter  keep  her 
dry,  while  he  walked  home  in  his  shirt  sleeves  and 
got  drenched. 

"  Arter  the  boys  went  to  college  she  didn't  write 
as  often  as  afore;  'cause  it  sort  o'  dawned  on  her 
thet  she  had  grown  inter  a  young  lady,  and  they 
inter  young  gentlemen ;  an'  her  innate  modesty 
forbade  the  forcing  of  herself  on  their  attention. 
So  the  letters  came  less  frequently,  were  shorter 
an'  more  formal,  and  finally  ceased  altogether. 

"  Lida  didn't  see  the  boys  agin  till  that  Sunday 
morning  in  the  church  ;  fer  she  had  spent  her  vaca- 
tions traveling  in  Europe,  or  visiting  some  o'  her 
relations  in  Boston.  But  the  moment  her  eyes 
met  Norman's,  she  knowed  as  how  Jean's  warning 
want  of  no  account. 

"  I  guess  Jean  knowed  it  too,  'cause  she  saw 
Lida's  eyes  sparkle  when  they  looked  towards  the 
Bixby  pew ;  fer  women,  yer  know,  are  mighty  quick 
ter  detect  sech  things.  Only,  it  wan't  Norman 
thet  Jean  thought  of;  it  was  Don.  Yer  see  the 
boys  had  been  home  some  two  weeks  at  that  time; 
and  Jean  had  overheard  Don  bragging  ter  the 
tutor  of  the  conquests  he  had  made  in  the  college 
town,  and  boasting  of  the  havoc  he  meant  ter  play 
among  the  hearts  of  the  young  ladies  of  his  native 
town  during  the  summer,  until  poor,  motherly 
Jean  felt  like  climbing  to  the  top  of  Mount  Wash- 
ington and  shouting  in  trumpet  tones  over  the  val- 
ley, *  Girls,  beware  of  Don  Bixby ! ' 


JETHRO'S  STORY  457 

"  Jean  had  also  heard  Don  inquire  about  Lida ; 
whether  she  had  grown  up  as  beautiful  as  her  girl- 
hood had  promised ;  and  whether  she  was  expected 
home  for  the  summer.  Don  had  learned  that  Lida 
would  be  at  church  that  morning,  a  fact  which  ac- 
counted for  his  presence  at  the  morning  service, 
for  Don  had  fallen  sadly  away  from  church  going 
during  his  two  years  at  college. 

"  Jean  took  a  mighty  lot  of  interest  in  them 
young  people.  Yer  see,  she  had  watched  them 
grow  up  together;  and  having  had  no  children  of 
her  own,  she  jest  worshiped  them  three.  It  was 
queer  too,  the  freaks  she  took.  For  all  she 
knowed  what  a  devil  incarnate  Don  was,  she  would 
never  say  a  word  agin  him.  Somehow  she  had  sot 
her  heart  on  Lida's  marrying  one  of  the  boys ;  and 
while  she  had  her  preference,  an'  hoped  it  would 
be  Norman,  she  would  shake  her  head  sometimes 
and  say, 

"  '  Ah,  weal,  girls  is  more  contrary  than  mules, 
an'  it  would  be  jes  like  Lida  tae  faw  i'  loe  wi  Don's 
masterfue  spirit  than  wi  Norman's  gentle  mien ; 
an'  it  wadna  surprise  me  if  Don  should  jes  play 
possom  till  the  last  moment,  an'  then  mak  a  bril- 
liant dash  an'  carry  her  heart  by  storm ;  while 
Norman  was  carefully  laying  his  plans  for  a  long 
seige.' 

"  But  Lord  bless  you,  Jean's  fears  were  all  un- 
founded in  this  case.  While  it  may  be  true  that 
women  admire  strength  in  the  opposite  sex,  it 
doesn't  stand  that  every  woman  is  a  durn  fool, 


458      THE  SINS  OF  THE  FATHERS 

an'  can't  distinguish  between  strength  and  pure 
cussedness. 

"  Once  when  Jean  was  talking  to  Lida  'bout  how 
strong-willed  Don  was,  Lida  jes  sniffed  up  her  nose 
an'  said, 

"  '  Strong-willed !  don't  talk  to  me  about  any 
man's  being  strong-willed  who  can't  control  his 
own  temper!  Don  Bixby  is  the  weakest  kind  of 
a  weakling.  The  real  strength  of  any  man  is 
shown  in  the  good  he  does,  not  in  the  evil.  The 
best  man  in  the  world  can  drift  into  wickedness ; 
but  the  bad  man  can  not  drift  into  goodness.  If 
the  bad  man  ever  does  become  good  and  remains 
so  for  any  length  of  time,  it  will  be  by  sheer  force 
of  will-power.  Bad  men  are  bad  not  because  they 
arc  strong,  but  because  they  are  too  weak  minded 
to  conquer  their  own  evil  natures.' 

"  Well,  sir,  from  that  Sunday  till  the  end  of 
the  vacation,  Don  put  in  most  of  his  time  shining 
up  to  Lida,  jes  es  Jean  thought  he  would ;  while 
Norman  spent  his  time  helping  his  father  on  some 
scientific  work  that  he  was  compiling. 

"  Lida  came  to  the  house  occasionally  during 
the  first  few  weeks  just  as  she  had  been  accustomed 
to  do  all  her  life ;  but  it  was  plain  to  be  seen  that 
Don's  attention  annoyed  her ;  that  she  didn't  ac- 
cept his  gallantries  as  graciously  as  in  the  days  of 
old,  when  they  were  playmates.  It  was  also  plain 
to  everyone,  except  Norman  himself,  that  she  was 
piqued  and  hurt  at  Norman's  holding  himself  aloof 
from  her;  and  after  awhile  she  stopped  coming. 


JETHRO'S  STORY  459 

"  The  last  week  of  vacation  arrived  ere  Mr. 
Bixby's  book  was  in  the  hands  of  the  printer  and 
Norman  found  himself  free  to  indulge  in  a  little 
recreation  of  his  own  choosing.  He  had  toiled 
patiently  and  incessantly  in  helping  his  father  to 
carry  out  this  one  great  desire  of  his  heart.  He 
had  unselfishly  devoted  the  whole  summer  to  the 
work,  denying  himself  even  necessary  rest  at  times. 
But  now  the  work  was  done  and  he  was  free.  As 
he  came  down  the  path  late  in  the  afternoon  of  the 
day  on  which  the  last  page  had  been  corrected  and 
the  manuscript  sent  off,  he  looked  like  a  modern 
Atlas  who  had  suddenly  pitched  the  world  from  his 
shoulders  and  stepped  forth  unburdened.  It  was 
certainly  a  relief  to  see  the  buoyancy  of  his  step 
and  the  animation  of  his  pale  face  as  he  set  off 
across  the  meadows  for  Lida's.  But  he  was  not 
prepared  for  the  news  that  awaited  him.  Lida 
had  gone  away  the  night  before  on  an  extended 
visit  to  her  uncle. 

"  Chagrined  and  disappointed,  he  returned 
home.  On  reaching  the  gate,  there  stood  Don, 
smirking  and  affable,  a  mannerism  of  his,  which 
Norman  had  learned  to  dread  more  than  any  other, 
as  it  always  prefaced  some  sly  stroke  of  deviltry. 

"  '  I  might  have  saved  you  that  long  walk  had 
you  but  told  me  you  were  going  to  call  on  Lida," 
said  Don  in  condescending  tones,  taking  his  cigar 
from  his  mouth  and  flipping  the  ashes  off  the 
end. 

"  *  The  walk  did  me  no  harm ;  besides  I  owed  a 


THE  SINS  OF  THE  FATHERS 

visit  to  Mrs.  Gray,'  replied  Norman  carelessly, 
placing  his  hand  on  the  gate  to  open  it. 

"'Was  she  at  home?' 

" '  Yes.' 

"  '  Did  she  tell  the  news  ?  '  And  balancing  the 
cigar  daintily  between  his  fingers,  he  raised  it  to 
his  lips  and  gave  a  few  gentle  whiffs  while  Norman 
answered, 

"  '  Yes ;  she  told  me  that  Lida  had  gone  away 
on  a  visit.' 

"'Nothing  else?' 

"  '  Nothing  else  of  any  importance.' 

"  '  Oh,  then  you  don't  consider  Lida's  engage- 
ment of  any  importance?  '  The  words  seemed  to 
drop  with  perfect  indifference,  as  he  changed  his 
position  and  leaned  sideways  against  the  fence,  his 
eyes  gleaming  with  a  sinister  light  through  the 
clouds  of  white  smoke  that  rose  from  between  his 
sneering  lips.  Norman  felt  rather  than  saw  the 
look. 

"  '  Lida's  engagement ! '  exclaimed  Norman, 
starting  and  turning  a  shade  paler. 

"'Then  she  didn't  tell  you?'  And  another 
cloud  of  smoke  half  veiled  his  face. 

"  '  No,  she  didn't  tell  me  that,'  he  said,  with  a 
sort  of  dazed  look  in  his  eyes. 

"'No?' 

"  '  No.' 

"  '  Ah,  well,  perhaps  she  expects  me  to  break  it 
to  you?'  Another  cloud  of  smoke  rolled  upward 
and  melted  in  space,  as  he  paused  to  note  the  ef- 


JETHRO'S  STORY  461 

feet  of  his  words.  '  You  know,  Nor,'  he  went  on 
patronizingly  after  a  brief  period,  removing  the 
cigar  stub  from  his  lips,  '  up  to  the  present  sum- 
mer you  had  the  odds  on  your  side ;  but  thanks  to 
that  little  scheme  of  Father's,  which  kept  you  busy 
and  out  of  the  way  of  mischief,  I  have  had  a 
chance  to  get  my  innings.  I  have  won  her  fairly ; 
she  is  mine  now;  and  I  shall  expect  you  to  act 
accordingly.'  The  last  words  were  uttered  more 
like  a  threat,  which  he  emphasized  by  hurling  the 
cigar  stub  across  the  road. 

"  Norman  waited  to  hear  no  more.  Pushing 
open  the  gate,  he  rushed  through  and  past  his  tor- 
mentor ;  dashed  up  the  path,  into  the  house,  up  the 
stairs,  and  into  his  own  room.  Nobody  saw  him 
till  next  morning  at  the  breakfast  table.  What- 
ever battle  he  had  to  fight,  he  fought  it  manfully, 
and  came  out  victorious ;  for  there  were  no  visible 
effects  of  a  struggle,  except  that  he  was  a  trifle 
paler  than  before.  As  there  were  only  a  few  days 
left  of  his  vacation,  he  had  little  time  to  brood 
over  his  disappointment;  for  he  had  his  packing 
to  oversee,  and  many  things  to  do  in  connection 
with  his  leaving  home. 

"  Three  years  passed  before  Norman  saw  Lida 
again.  Meantime  many  things  had  happened. 
Norman  had  graduated  with  high  honors  and  re- 
turned home.  An'  I  tell  you  it  was  one  of  the 
proudest  moments  of  old  Don  Bixby's  life  when  he 
saw  the  name  of  '  Norman  Bixby  '  in  gold  letters 
hung  under  a  window  of  a  law  office  in  town.  Nor- 


4-62      THE  SINS  OF  THE  FATHERS 

man  learned  that  Don  had  lied  to  him  about  Lida's 
engagement;  and  shortly  after  he  opened  his  of- 
fice, the  public  announcement  was  made  of  his  en- 
gagement to  Lida  Gray.  Then  everybody  joined 
hands  to  do  them  honor;  and  Norman  was  hailed 
as  the  coming  man  of  the  town. 

"  As  for  Don,  he  was  expelled  from  college 
about  the  middle  of  his  third  year.  Returning 
home,  he  remained  about  three  months  and  during 
the  whole  time  there  were  constant  quarrels  be- 
tween him  and  his  father,  owing  to  his  frequent 
demands  for  money.  Then  he  disappeared  sud- 
denly and  for  nearly  two  years  nothing  was  heard 
of  him.  Then  Mr.  Bixby  learned  that  Don  had 
gone  West  and  was  doing  fust  rate.  He  had  en- 
tered a  small  college  and  worked  his  way  through, 
and  had  received  his  M.D.  and  was  in  a  fair  way 
of  making  a  man  of  himself.  Of  course  this 
pleased  his  father.  He  knew  that  Don  was  bright 
as  a  gold  eagle,  'cause  he  was  a  Bixby ;  and 
the  Bixby s  were  all  smart.  But  just  the  same, 
he  thought  it  best  to  let  Don  alone  to  work  out  his 
own  salvation;  so  that  he  neither  wrote  nor  sent 
Don  any  word  to  come  home. 

"  The  week  following  the  announcement  of  Nor- 
man's engagement  was  fair  week  and  everybody 
was  on  the  tiptoe  of  excitement.  Being  one  of 
the  promoters,  Mr.  Bixby  always  took  great  in- 
terest in  the  fair,  and  made  a  rule  to  have  the  finest 
exhibit  of  cattle  and  vegetables  on  the  grounds. 
You  see  the  grounds  are  only  a  short  distance  up 


JETHRO'S  STORY  463 

the  road,  so  near  that  you  can  hear  the  people 
shout,  the  bands  play,  and  all  the  other  noises  that 
go  to  make  a  county  fair  a  howling  success. 
You'll  understand  this  better  after  next  week, 
'cause  next  Tuesday  the  fair  opens  for  the  fourth 
time  since  that  eventful  week. 

"  It  was  Thursday,  the  big  day  of  the  fair. 
The  Governor  and  his  staff  were  there;  and  there 
was  a  tremendous  big  crowd.  Mr.  Bixby  was  a 
member  of  the  committee  to  receive  and  entertain 
the  Governor;  and  Norman  was  one  of  the  judges 
on  the  races ;  so  they  started  off  bright  and  early 
that  morning.  Old  Sandy,  Jean,  and  the  tutor 
went  over  about  noon,  having  locked  up  the  house 
and  left  everything  snug  and  slick  about  the  place. 

"  About  five  o'clock  in  the  afternoon  Jean  got 
tired  of  the  confusion  and  wanted  to  go  home. 
She  fairly  had  to  drag  Sandy  away  from  the  cattle 
sheds.  On  their  way  out  they  met  Norman  and 
the  three  walked  home  together.  The  tutor,  hav- 
ing become  separated  from  Sandy  early  in  the 
afternoon,  was  left  to  look  out  for  himself.  Mr. 
Bixby  had  left  the  grounds  soon  after  three 
o'clock  to  escort  the  Governor  and  his  staff  to  the 
train. 

"  When  they  reached  the  house,  Sandy  and  Jean 
went  in  while  Norman  stood  at  the  gate  to  watch 
the  passing  crowds.  To  him  it  seemed  he  had 
stood  but  a  moment  when  a  succession  of  screams 
came  from  the  house.  He  rushed  in  and  followed 
the  sounds  upstairs  to  the  library,  where  he  found 


464      THE  SINS  OF  THE  FATHERS 

his  father  lying  on  the  floor,  dead.  Sandy  was 
kneeling  beside  him;  and  Jean  was  standing  over 
him,  wringing  her  hands  and  screaming  hysteric- 
ally. Mr.  Bixby  lay  on  his  side,  and  a  deep  dis- 
coloration was  visible  on  his  right  temple.  There 
was  evidence  of  a  struggle  in  the  room,  for  the 
furniture  was  disarranged  and  the  drawers  of  the 
secretary  were  all  out  and  the  papers  scattered 
over  the  floor  in  confusion. 

"  As  Norman  knelt  beside  his  father  to  examine 
him,  to  see  if  life  was  really  extinct,  his  eyes 
caught  the  glitter  of  something  among  the  papers. 
He  reached  for  it  and  picked  up  a  ring.  Instinct- 
ively he  raised  his  hand  and  looked  at  his  little 
finger.  His  ring  was  there.  Sandy  saw  the 
movement  and  the  two  rings,  and  met  the  horrified 
look  in  Norman's  eyes  with  a  savage  scowl. 

"  *  What's  to  be  done,  Sandy?  '  asked  Norman  in 
a  hoarse  whisper. 

"  '  Gi  him  up  tae  justice! '  answered  Sandy,  his 
temper  rising.  *  It's  na  mair  than  I've  lang  ex- 
pected, though  I  didna  think  it  would  come  this 
way.  Gi  him  up  tae  justice! '  he  repeated.  '  It's 
na  mair  than  he  deserves ! ' 

"  Norman  rose  from  the  floor,  dropped  heavily 
into  a  chair,  and  covering  his  face  with  his  hands, 
burst  into  tears. 

"  Sandy  stooped  over  and  straightened  out  the 
limbs  of  his  old  friend  and  employer.  After  this, 
he  approached  Norman  and  placing  his  hand  on 
his  shoulder,  said, 


JETHRO'S  STORY         H      465 

"  *  Come,  Misther  Norman,  you  maun  gi  your 
orders,  for  I'm  aff  ta  toon.  Maun  I  tell  the  truth 
or  — '  He  broke  off  short  as  Norman  roused  him- 
self and  interrupted  him. 

"  *  No  !  no  !  for  God's  sake,  no ! '  cried  Norman 
in  agony.  Then  rising  to  his  feet,  and  drawing 
his  hand  across  his  forehead,  he  appealed  to  Sandy. 
'  What's  to  be  done,  Sandy?  Think!  think!  any- 
thing but  the  truth.  The  truth  will  not  bring 
him  back  to  life;  and  the  disgrace  of  it  would  be 
unbearable ! ' 

"  '  Then  let  it  be  an  apoplectic  fit.  I'm  aff  for 
the  coroner.  Jean,  pick  up  au  these  papers  and 
put  the  room  tae  richts ! '  ordered  Sandy  in  his 
broad  Scotch,  as  he  started  for  the  door. 

"  In  less  than  an  hour  the  report  had  spread 
through  the  town  that  Mr.  Bixby  had  died  sud- 
denly of  apoplexy ;  and  the  news,  coming  right  in 
the  middle  of  fair  week,  cast  a  gloom  over  every- 
thing. 

"  The  day  of  the  funeral  came ;  and  the  whole 
town  turned  out  to  do  honor  to  the  memory  of  the 
kind  old  gentleman  who  had  been  loved  and  re- 
spected for  the  common  virtues  he  had  possessed. 
Everybody  sympathized  with  Norman  in  his  be- 
reavement. The  coffin  was  carried  through  the 
gate  in  the  rear  yonder  to  the  tomb  by  some  of 
the  foremost  men  in  the  state,  who  considered  it 
an  honor  to  act  as  pall-bearers.  The  procession 
moved  slowly  along  the  narrow  path  leading  to 
the  tomb,  when  all  of  a  sudden,  out  stepped  Don 


466      THE  SINS  OF  THE  FATHERS 

from  behind  a  clump  of  shrubbery,  a  little  in  ad- 
vance of  the  mourners.  Bareheaded,  he  stood  on 
a  small  knoll  until  the  bearers  with  the  bier  came 
abreast  of  him,  then  he  made  a  move  forward  and 
stepped  in  ahead  of  Norman  and  took  up  his  walk 
to  the  tomb. 

"  At  the  tomb,  he  stepped  to  the  right  and  Nor- 
man to  the  left ;  and  thus  they  faced  each  other  at 
the  head  of  the  coffin.  Norman  raised  his  head ; 
and  their  eyes  met.  Don  must  have  read  some- 
thing in  that  look,  for  his  cheeks  blanched,  his 
head  dropped  on  his  breast ;  and  he  trembled  vio- 
lently. Then  he  moved  round  the  head  of  the 
coffin  and  stood  beside  Norman.  Norman  ordered 
the  coffin  opened  so  that  Don  might  look  once 
more  on  his  father's  face.  While  this  was  being 
done,  Norman  passed  round  to  the  right,  where  he 
watched  Don  eagerly  to  note  the  effect. 

"  It  was  a  pitiable  sight  to  see  those  two 
brothers,  facing  each  other,  alike  yet  not  alike, 
gazing  down  on  the  face  of  him  who  had  been  their 
inseparable  companion  in  childhood,  their  friend 
and  adviser  in  youth,  and  who  had  proved  him- 
self one  of  the  best  and  most  loving  of  fathers. 
The  contrast  was  marked  as  they  stood  bare- 
headed during  the  committal  service.  One  was 
shaken  with  sobs  of  genuine  grief ;  the  other  main- 
tained a  stoic  silence;  the  impress  of  a  righteous 
life  brought  out  the  manly  features  of  one;  while 
marks  of  dissipation  and  sensual  indulgence 
blotched  the  face  of  the  other. 


JETHRO'S  STORY  467 

"  After  the  burial,  the  mourners  returned  to  the 
house;  but  when  they  looked  round  for  Don,  he 
was  not  among  them.  Not  a  word  had  been  ex- 
changed between  the  brothers,  nor,  in  fact,  be- 
tween Don  and  anyone  else.  He  made  his  appear- 
ance amid  the  silence  of  death  and  disappeared 
amid  the  same  death-like  silence  at  the  end  of  the 
service.  No  one  knew  whence  he  came;  no  one 
knew  whence  he  went;  and  no  one  seemed  to  care. 

"  A  week  passed  and  nothing  was  seen  or  heard 
of  him  and  Norman  was  beginning  to  think  he  had 
seen  the  last  of  him ;  when  late  one  afternoon,  his 
office  door  opened  and  in  stalked  Don,  and  gruffly 
demanded  his  patrimony. 

"  When  Don  learned  that  his  father  had  left  a 
will  and  cut  him  off  with  a  dollar  and  a  tract  of 
land  in  the  southern  part  of  the  state,  his  rage 
knew  no  bounds.  He  didn't  want  the  land;  he 
wanted  money,  wanted  it  right  away.  To  get  rid 
of  him  once  for  all,  Norman  gave  him  the  cash 
value  of  the  land  and  took  a  deed  for  the  same. 
Then  Don  again  disappeared  as  mysteriously  as 
he  had  come." 


CHAPTER  XXVIII 
JETHRO'S  STORY  (Concluded) 

"  About  the  middle  of  December,  I  think  it  was 
Christmas  week,  one  cold,  frosty  night,  a  heavy 
knock  shook  the  kitchen  door;  and  when  Sandy 
opened  it,  Don  staggered  in. 

" '  Hello,  Sandy !  can't  you  give  a  fellow  a 
shelter  such  a  night  as  this?  '  he  sang  out,  throw- 
ing himself  into  a  chair  beside  the  table  and 
stretching  his  legs  out  towards  the  stove.  *  I'm 
dead  broke;  and  like  the  Nazarine  that  Dad  used 
to  tell  about,  I  have  no  place  to  lay  my  head.' 

"  *  It's  mair  the  shame  for  ye  ta  tell  it ! '  chided 
Sandy,  fixing  his  cold  gray  eyes  on  the  bloated 
face  of  this  self-styled  older  son  of  the  house. 
*  It's  na  lang  sin  ye  had  yer  portion  paid  o'er  ta 
ye ;  but  like  the  prodigal  yer  guid  father  used  ta 
tell  ye  aboot,  ye  hae  muddled  it  awae  in  riotous 
living.  But  ye  maun  remember,  Don,  there's  na 
guid  father  noo  ta  kill  the  fatted  calf  an'  rejoice 
at  the  prodigal's  return.  Nay,  nay!  Ye  did  for 
him,  Don,  the  guid,  guid  man ! ' 

"  *  Who  says  I  killed  my  father?  '  shouted  Don 
fiercely,  springing  to  his  feet  and  bringing  his 

clenched  fist  down  on  the  table  with  a  thud  that 
468 


JETHRO'S  STORY  469 

set  the  milk-pans  on  it  a-rattling.  *  Whoever 
says  so  is  a  damned  liar ! '  His  eyes  blazed  with 
a  wicked  light;  but  Sandy  didn't  scare  worth  a 
cent. 

"  '  Nabody  says  ye  killt  him,  Don ;  a  guilty  con- 
science needs  na  accuser ! '  mildly  insinuated 
Sandy,  meeting  the  bluster  of  Don  with  a  calm- 
ness that  at  once  cowed  the  fiery  spirit  of  the 
young  reprobate. 

"  *  Why  is  it,  Sandy  ?  '  he  asked  in  a  shaky 
voice,  as  he  dropped  back  into  his  chair,  all  of  a 
tremble,  *  that  both  you  and  Norman  accuse  me 
of  killing  my  father?  ' 

"  *  Nay,  nay,  lad !  we  do  not  accuse  you  of  kill- 
ing him ;  we  only  accuse  you  of  causing  his  death,' 
replied  Sandy  in  a  softer  and  more  kindly  tone 
than  he  had  yet  used. 

"  Don  leaned  eagerly  towards  Sandy,  who  had 
seated  himself  at  the  opposite  side  of  the  table, 

"  '  Come,  Sandy,  what's  the  difference  between 
killing  a  man  and  causing  his  death  ?  ' 

"  '  Why,  ye  see,  Don,  ye  didna  mean  ta  kill  him. 
Ye  couldna  mean  ta  kill  yer  guid,  kind,  old 
father ! '  said  Sandy,  as  if  appealing  to  the  latent 
manhood  within. 

"  '  You  are  right,  Sandy !  It  was  an  accident.' 
And  Don  covered  his  face  with  his  hands;  but 
whether  in  sorrow  or  in  shame,  Sandy  was  at  a  loss 
to  determine.  After  a  brief  space  of  time,  he  took 
a  soiled  handkerchief  from  his  pocket  and  wiped 
his  eyes.  Sandy  shook  his  head  sadly  at  the  sight 


4-70      THE  SINS  OF  THE  FATHERS 

of  the  dirty  cotton,  as  he  thought  of  how  low  the 
fastidious  Don  had  fallen. 

"  *  I'll  explain  how  it  happened,  Sandy,'  he 
said,  pulling  himself  together.  *  I  was  in  the 
house  when  father  came  home  that  afternoon,  and 
he  ordered  me  out.  I  told  him  I  had  no  money 
and  begged  him  to  give  me  enough  to  get  me  to 
Boston;  but  he  refused  point-blank.  I  pleaded 
with  him ;  but  he  remained  firm.  Finally  he  said 
he  would  give  me  the  money  if  I  would  give  him 
my  ring.  He  said  that  I  had  disgraced  it ;  that 
the  charm  was  broken ;  that  it  was  no  longer  a 
talisman.  I  had  become  deeply  attached  to  the 
ring  and  did  not  want  to  part  with  it;  and  of 
course  I  refused.  But  I  soon  saw  that  father 
was  bent  on  getting  it.  I  held  it  up  and  looked 
at  it  and  saw  what  I  had  not  seen  before,  that  the 
eyes  of  the  serpent  had  lost  their  brilliancy  and 
were  nothing  but  dull,  dark  stones.  The  dia- 
monds, too,  hsfd  lost  their  luster  and  resembled 
pieces  of  ordinary  glass.  The  ring  had  indeed 
lost  its  charm  for  me.  I  took  it  off  and  gave  it 
to  him  and  he  immediately  gave  me  the  money ; 
telling  me  at  the  same  time  that  he  would  furnish 
me  with  no  more  under  any  circumstances ;  that  I 
had  received  my  last  dollar  from  him.  Naturally, 
my  temper  rose,  and  I  said  some  cutting  things. 

"  '  But  Father  never  answered  ;  he  simply  turned 
his  back  on  me  and  picked  up  the  ring  from  the 
desk  where  I  had  laid  it,  and  held  it  between  his 
fingers.  As  he  did  so,  all  their  former  dazzling 


JETHRO'S  STORY  471 

brilliancy  seemed  to  return  to  the  stones.  I  can- 
not tell  what  took  possession  of  me ;  but  I  wanted 
that  ring  again,  so  I  sprang  for  it.  We  grappled ; 
and  in  the  struggle  that  followed  he  seemed  to  be 
the  stronger.  He  was  bearing  me  down  when  I 
got  my  arm  loose  and  dealt  him  a  blow  on  the 
temple.  I  felt  his  grasp  weaken,  and  with  one 
mighty  effort,  I  flung  him  to  the  floor.  I  saw  him 
gasp,  but  in  my  eagerness  to  get  possession  of  the 
ring,  I  did  not  realize  what  had  really  happened. 
I  picked  it  up  but  did  not  put  it  on.  Then  I 
opened  the  drawers  to  look  for  more  money,  and 
in  my  haste  dropped  the  ring,  and  before  I  could 
find  it  among  the  papers,  I  heard  you  and  Jean 
come  in.  I  had  no  chance  to  leave  the  house,  so 
I  hid  in  the  loft.  I  heard  you  say,  "  Gi  him  up 
ta  justice!  "  And  I  heard  Norman  plead  for  me. 
Then  I  knew  I  was  safe.  There  Sandy,  I  have 
told  you  all.  And  God  knows  how  I  have  suf- 
fered for  my  crime !  But  all  my  suffering  doesn't 
help  me ;  I  am  a  born  devil ! ' 

"  Don's  confession  and  apparent  repentance, 
as  evidenced  in  his  closing  words,  really  softened 
Sandy's  heart  toward  the  *  puir  prodigal ' ;  and 
the  faithful  old  fellow  stood  ready  to  help  him  as 
he  had  been  accustomed  to  help  him  in  the  past. 
Laying  his  hand  affectionately  on  Don's  shoulder, 
he  said  reverently, 

"  *  May  the  guid  Loard  help  ye  ta  turn  fra 
your  wicked  life  before  it  is  too  late! '  His  heart 
was  too  full  to  say  more. 


472      THE  SINS  OF  THE  FATHERS 

"  Sandy  then  bustled  around  and  soon  had  a 
substantial  supper  on  the  table,  to  which  his  hun- 
gry guest  did  ample  justice.  While  Don  ate  he 
recounted  to  Sandy  all  his  troubles  and  the  priva- 
tions he  had  undergone  because  of  his  own  reck- 
less misdeeds. 

"  He  had  just  finished  his  repast  and  had  pushed 
his  chair  back  from  the  table  when  the  sound  of 
footsteps  were  heard  on  the  path  leading  up  to 
the  side  door. 

"  '  It's  Norman ! '  exclaimed  Sandy  below  his 
breath. 

"  '  Let  me  hide,'  whispered  Don,  gathering  up 
his  coat  and  hat  which  he  had  removed  and  thrown 
over  a  chair  before  he  sat  down  to  supper.  '  I 
don't  want  to  meet  him ;  no  good  would  come  from 
our  meeting.  I  will  hide  in  the  loft ! ' 

"  He  sprang  to  the  door,  opened  it,  and 
bounded  lightly  up  the  stairs;  while  Sandy  hur- 
riedly removed  the  remains  of  the  feast  from  the 
table.  Scarcely  was  this  done  when  the  outer 
door  opened  and  Norman  stepped  into  the 
kitchen,  covered  with  snow,  which  he  shook  off  as 
he  entered. 

"'Is  it  snawing,  Misther  Norman?'  asked 
Sandy,  as  he  emerged  from  the  pantry  and 
stepped  forward  to  take  Norman's  coat. 

"  '  Yes,  and  I  shouldn't  wonder  if  we  had  a 
heavy  fall  before  morning,'  replied  Norman,  pull- 
ing off  his  great  coat  and  handing  it  to  Sandy. 

"  It  was  nearly  ten  o'clock,  so  Norman  paused 


JETHRO'S  STORY  473 

only  long  enough  to  give  his  directions  to  lock 
up.  Then  he  passed  into  the  dining-room,  thence 
through  the  front  hall  and  up  the  stairs  to  his 
study. 

"  Sandy  proceeded  to  lock  up  as  directed,  then 
went  softly  up  the  back  stairs  to  the  loft  and  un- 
locked a  large  dresser  that  stood  in  the  middle  of 
that  black  space,  from  which  he  took  a  blanket 
and  pillows  and  gave  them  to  Don.  Neither  spoke 
a  word  as  Don  took  the  bedclothes  and  groped  his 
way  over  to  an  old  trundle-bed,  which  had  stood 
for  years  behind  the  dresser.  Sandy  crept  back 
to  the  kitchen,  and  taking  up  his  candle  went  up 
to  his  own  room,  wholly  at  ease  with  himself  for 
having  given  shelter  to  the  prodigal  son  of  his  old 
master's  house. 

"  When  he  told  Jean,  who  had  retired  early, 
what  he  had  done,  she  shook  her  head  doubtfully 
and  said, 

"  *  Don  shouldna  be  allowed  ta  stay  i'  the  loft 
withoot  Mester  Norman's  knowledge.  Gang  an' 
tell  him,  Sandy !  I'm  sure  he  wauldna  have  his 
brother  sleeping  there  if  he  knew  it ;  and  when 
there  are  beds  enough  i'  the  house,  and  ta  spare.' 

"  But  Sandy  would  not  budge  an  inch,  so  they 
retired  for  the  night. 

"  About  midnight,  Sandy  and  Jean  were  awak- 
ened by  the  report  of  a  pistol,  followed  quickly  by 
a  sound,  as  if  a  heavy  body  had  fallen  on  the  floor, 
then  a  scuffle  which  lasted  hardly  a  minute ;  and 
then  the  stillness  of  death  settled  over  the  house 


THE  SINS  OF  THE  FATHERS 

again.  Hastily  donning  his  trousers,  Sandy 
rushed  downstairs  to  the  study  door.  It  was 
locked.  A  glimmer  of  light  shone  through  the 
keyhole  and  he  knew  that  some  one  was  there.  So 
he  rapped  and  shook  the  door  with  all  his  might. 

"  *  Mesther  Norman  ! '  he  called  softly. 

"  The  door  was  instantly  opened  by  Norman, 
who  looked  agitated  and  white. 

"'  What's  the  matter,  Sandy?'  he  asked,  his 
voice  trembling  slightly. 

"  *  I  thought  I  heard  a  pistol  shot,'  said  Sandy, 
peering  into  the  room  with  a  searching  gaze. 
Everything  was  in  its  customary  place  with  the 
exception  of  one  chair,  which  was  pushed  back 
from  the  secretary,  as  if  Norman  had  risen  hastily 
and  shoved  it  carelessly  back. 

" '  A  pistol  shot ! '  exclaimed  Norman  in 
feigned  surprise.  '  I  think  you  must  have  been 
dreaming,  Sandy.  Go  back  to  bed,  man,  and  if  I 
need  your  help  to  cope  with  any  midnight 
marauder,  I  will  call  you.' 

"  He  had  thrown  the  door  wide  open  so  that 
the  lamplight  streamed  into  the  hall  and  over 
Sandy's  half  clad  form.  Sandy  dared  not  dis- 
pute his  word,  so  he  turned  away  and  retraced 
his  steps  to  his  own  room ;  but  not  without  a  feel- 
ing that  all  was  not  right. 

"  Early  next  morning  Sandy  rose,  dressed  him- 
self, and  went  downstairs  to  light  the  fires.  When 
he  entered  the  kitchen  he  was  surprised  to  see  spat- 
ters of  blood  on  the  floor.  They  seemed  to  start 


JETHRO'S  STORY  475 

from  the  back  stairs  which  led  to  the  loft,  and  to 
lead  across  the  room  and  out  of  the  kitchen  door. 

"  He  opened  the  door  leading  to  the  loft  and 
went  softly  up  the  stairs,  tracing  the  blood  to  the 
study  door,  which  he  found  locked.  Stepping 
lightly  over  the  rafters  to  the  clothespress,  he 
peered  behind  it,  then  stooped  and  pulled  aside 
the  blanket.  The  bed  was  empty,  and  there  was 
no  trace  of  Don  to  be  found.  Back  he  came  over 
the  rafters,  following  the  trail  of  blood  down  the 
stairs  to  the  kitchen  door;  he  stopped  only  long 
enough  to  put  on  his  overcoat  and  cap,  then  he 
opened  the  door  and  passed  out  into  the  dawn. 

"  Several  inches  of  snow  had  fallen  during  the 
night ;  and  the  footprints  of  a  man  were  plainly 
visible,  leading  in  the  direction  of  the  cemetery 
gate.  Drops  of  fresh  blood  ran  in  parallel  lines, 
staining  the  newly-fallen  snow  a  deep  crimson. 
With  a  beating  heart,  Sandy  followed  the  trail 
silently  to  the  cemetery  gate.  Here  he  found 
quite  a  pool  of  blood  and  a  small  area  where  the 
snow  was  considerably  pressed  down  and  trodden 
over,  as  though  something  bulky  had  been  set 
down  and  dragged  about.  He  passed  through  the 
gate  and  kept  along  the  path  for  some  distance, 
then  branched  to  the  right,  still  following  the  foot- 
steps and  the  blood  spots.  On,  on,  on,  he  went 
until  he  reached  the  lake  front.  Down  the  em- 
bankment he  stepped  cautiously,  and  crept  over 
the  snow-covered  ice  to  a  large  hole  which  had 
been  cut  for  pickerel  fishing  the  day  before.  Here 


476      THE  SINS  OF  THE  FATHERS 

the  bloodstains  ended.  A  film  of  thin  ice  had 
formed  over  the  water  in  the  hole,  which  Sandy 
could  see  had  recently  been  broken  and  frozen 
again,  for  the  jagged  edges  of  the  old  film  were 
standing  out  on  all  sides. 

"  Sandy  hurriedly  retraced  his  steps,  sorely 
puzzled  and  very  much  excited.  He  was  anxious 
to  unravel  the  mystery.  *  What  did  it  mean  ?  ' 
he  asked  himself  over  and  over  again.  Reaching 
the  kitchen  door,  he  found  Norman  standing  on 
the  steps,  looking  pale  and  haggard. 

"  *•  Good  morning,  Sandy ;  where  have  you  been 
so  early?  '  he  asked  frigidly. 

"  Before  answering  him,  Sandy  opened  the  door 
and  stepped  inside,  beckoning  Norman  to  follow ; 
which  he  did  in  silence.  With  a  very  mysterious 
air,  Sandy  closed  the  door  and  faced  him. 

"  '  Mesther  Norman,  whaure  is  Mesther  Don?  ' 
he  asked  abruptly. 

"'How  should  I  know?  Is  it  my  business  to 
keep  track  of  him?  '  he  replied  in  a  slightly  irri- 
tated tone. 

" '  Na,  Mesther  Norman,  only  he  was  i'  the 
hoose  last  nicht ;  and  I  heard  a  pistol  shot ;  and 
this  morning  I  see  blood.  I  hae  followed  the  trail, 
and  it  ends  i'  the  lake.  What  does  it  mean,  Nor- 
man ? '  And  he  looked  straight  into  Norman's 
face. 

"  Laying  his  hand  on  the  old  man's  shoulder 
with  the  privilege  of  a  lifelong  friend,  Norman 
said  solemnly. 


JETHRO'S  STORY  477 

"  *  Sandy,  my  man,  do  you  not  know  Don  well 
enough  yet  to  understand  his  devilish  tricks? 
Can  you  not  see  the  trail  of  the  serpent  in  this 
trail  of  blood?  Do  you  suppose  for  one  moment 
that  I  shall  attempt  to  follow  that  trail  to  meet 
the  hiss  and  sting  at  the  other  end?  No,  Sandy, 
I  neither  love  nor  fear  him ;  I  shall  simply  let  him 
alone  to  follow  out  the  bent  of  his  own  destiny. 
Now  calm  yourself,  Sandy,  and  depend  on  it,  Don 
will  see  that  no  harm  comes  to  Don  Bixby.  He's 
too  big  a  coward  for  that.' 

"  '  I  suppose  you  are  richt,  Mesther  Norman. 
Don  is  as  deep  as  the  sea !  I  only  wanted  to  know 
what  this  blood  means,'  answered  the  old  man, 
looking  the  young  man  in  the  face.  There  was  a 
troubled  look  in  the  deep  gray  eyes. 

"  *  I  don't  know,  Sandy,'  answered  Norman  posi- 
tively. 

"  '  Ye  denna  ken?  '  repeated  Sandy. 

"  '  No  ;  I  don't  know,'  reiterated  Norman.  *  Do 
you  doubt  my  word  ? ' 

"  '  Na !  na !  but  ther's  something  wrang ! ' 

"  *  You  say  this  trail  ends  at  the  lake  ?  '  said 
Norman,  pointing  carelessly  down  at  the  blood- 
stains on  the  floor. 

"  '  Aye,  in  a  hole  i'  the  lake.' 

"  '  That  is  certainly  strange.  What  could  be 
his  object?'  He  spoke  more  to  himself  than  to 
Sandy ;  and  his  face  assumed  a  serious  air.  '  Oh, 
well,'  he  said  after  a  moment's  pause,  *  it  is  only 
another  of  his  mad  pranks.  It  will  come  out  all 


478      THE  SINS  OF  THE  FATHERS 

right,  Sandy,  so  don't  give  yourself  any  uneasiness 
about  the  matter.'  He  turned  to  go;  and  then 
wheeled  about  suddenly  and  facing  Sandy  asked, 
'  You  knew  that  Don  was  in  the  house  last  night  ?  ' 

" '  Yes,'  he  answered  timidly,  as  though 
ashamed  of  his  deception. 

"  *  He  was  in  the  house  when  I  came  home  ? ' 

"  *  Yes.5 

"  «  Why  didn't  you  tell  me?  ' 

"  *  It  war  sech  a  night,  I  war  afeared  you 
wouldna  let  him  stay,  an'  I  couldna  bear  the 
thought  of  the  puir  prodigal  being  out  i'  the 
storm  wee  na  shelter.'  His  manner  was  penitent, 
as  if  he  realized  that  he  had  committed  a  breach 
of  confidence  in  secreting  Don  under  the  roof  of 
his  employer. 

" '  You  ought  to  know  me  better  than  that, 
Sandy ;  however,  we'll  let  it  pass  this  time.  But 
don't  let  it  occur  again.'  And  without  giving 
Sandy  a  chance  to  reply,  Norman  left  the  room 
and  went  up  to  his  study. 

"  When  Norman  left  the  room,  Sandy  went 
quietly  to  work  and  washed  the  bloodstains  from 
the  kitchen  floor  and  the  stairs.  Then  he  swept 
the  snow  off  the  steps  and  obliterated  all  traces  in 
the  yard  by  shovelling  a  path  from  the  front  gate 
to  the  gate  in  the  rear;  so  that  when  Jean  came 
down  to  prepare  breakfast,  not  a  sign  remained  to 
rouse  her  suspicion  that  anything  out  of  the  usual 
had  happened  to  disturb  the  peace  of  mind  of  her 
worthy  husband. 


JETHRO'S  STORY  479 

"  Sandy  still  pottered  about  the  yard.  The 
wind,  which  had  blown  furiously  all  night,  was 
still  high  and  blew  the  light  snow  about  in  whirl- 
ing gusts ;  and  as  Sandy  finished  his  task  at  the 
cemetery  gate,  he  peered  over  the  wall  with  an 
earnest  wish  in  his  heart  that  the  wind  would  keep 
up  long  enough  to  cover  the  footprints  and  the 
bloodstains  deep  under  the  eddying  snow.  But  in 
this  he  was  doomed  to  disappointment ;  for  by 
eight  o'clock,  the  wind  had  died  out  entirely,  and 
the  sun  rose  in  smiling  splendor  above  the  hills. 

"  Norman  did  not  go  to  his  office  that  day.  He 
remained  quietly  in  his  study  preparing  briefs  in 
a  case  which  was  soon  to  come  up  for  trial.  The 
office  boy  opened  up  the  office  and  after  getting 
everything  in  readiness  for  business,  took  a  book 
and  settled  himself  comfortably  in  a  chair,  with 
his  heels  on  the  desk,  and  was  soon  lost  in  some 
intricate  question  of  law. 

"  Noon  arrived  and  yet  lawyer  Bixby  had  not 
put  in  an  appearance  at  his  office,  a  circumstance 
which  gave  the  boy  no  little  uneasiness ;  for  Nor- 
man had  always  been  punctual  and  attentive  to 
his  professional  duties.  At  noon  he  locked  up  and 
went  home  to  lunch,  returning  about  two  o'clock 
to  repeat  the  long  tedious  waiting  of  the  morning. 
But  Norman  came  not;  and  when  he  turned  the 
key  in  the  lock  at  the  close  of  the  afternoon,  he 
muttered  to  himself, 

"  *  I  wonder  what's  the  matter?  '  He  was  soon 
to  learn. 


480      THE  SINS  OF  THE  FATHERS 

"  Up  at  the  house  the  day  wore  on  as  usual. 
Jean  trolled  her  old  Scotch  songs  as  she  went 
about  her  work,  little  dreaming  of  the  shadows 
hanging  over  her  head.  She  had  inquired  about 
Don  when  she  came  down  in  the  morning,  and  was 
told  by  Sandy  that  he  had  gone  away  before  Nor- 
man got  up,  as  he  did  not  care  to  meet  him. 

"  After  dinner,  the  air  was  so  delightfully  clear 
and  crisp  that  Jean  decided  to  take  a  sleigh  ride. 
She  told  Sandy  to  hitch  up  old  Dobbin ;  that  she 
wanted  to  make  a  few  calls  in  town,  and  as  she 
needed  some  groceries,  she  could  kill  two  birds 
with  one  stone. 

"  It  was  the  first  good  sleighing  of  the  season, 
and  Jean's  black  eyes  sparkled  as  she  gathered  up 
the  reins  and  dashed  off  towards  town.  The  world 
never  looked  so  pure  and  bright  as  on  that  glori- 
ous afternoon.  The  snow  lay  a  foot  deep  on  the 
level,  hard,  crisp,  and  glittering  under  the  rays  of 
the  silvery  sunbeams.  The  air  was  keen  and  in- 
vigorating and  Jean  felt  the  warm  blood  mount  to 
her  cheeks  as  old  Dobbin  cut  through  the  un- 
broken snow  along  the  open  country  road. 

"  The  sun  had  dipped  below  the  horizon,  leaving 
a  faint  blush  above  the  tips  of  the  distant  moun- 
tains, when  Jean  drew  rein  in  front  of  the  grocer's, 
sprang  lightly  out  of  the  sleigh,  and  threw  a  blan- 
ket over  Dobbin  to  protect  him  from  the  raw, 
north  blast  that  swept  round  the  corner  of  the 
building  at  that  point. 

"  She  had  made  several  calls  on  old  friends  dur- 


JETHRO'S  STORY  481 

ing  the  afternoon ;  had  done  a  little  Christmas 
shopping,  and  was  in  an  unusually  pleasant  frame 
of  mind  when  she  reached  the  door  of  the  grocer's. 
She  could  see  through  the  window  in  the  door  a 
group  of  men  standing  about  the  stove  in  the  rear. 
But  as  such  sights  are  not  uncommon  in  a  country 
store,  she  made  no  hesitation  about  entering. 
She  lifted  the  latch  and  stepped  in,  closing  the 
door  softly  behind  her.  Most  of  the  men  were 
standing  with  their  backs  towards  her;  the  others 
were  so  absorbed  in  listening  to  what  one  of  their 
number  was  saying,  that  her  entrance  was  not  no- 
ticed, even  by  the  store-keeper  himself,  who  was 
one  of  the  group. 

"  '  Yes,  I  tell  you,  it  was  a  gruesome  sight  when 
Bill  Noyes  pulled  up  that  bundle  on  the  end  of 
the  hook  and  seed  a  man's  hand  sticking  out  of 
it,'  were  the  words  that  greeted  her  ears  as  she 
closed  the  door.  Just  then  Dobbin  gave  a  snort 
outside  and  she  paused  to  see  what  the  trouble  was, 
while  the  conversation  went  on  round  the  stove  in 
the  rear. 

"  *  Yer  think  it's  a  murder?  '  asked  one. 

"  *  Murder  as  sure  as  you're  born.' 

"  '  Any  idea  who  it  is  ?  ' 

"  '  No ;  except  that  the  coat  wrapped  round  the 
body  is  Don  Bixby's,  and  they  found  a  trail  of 
blood  leading  in  the  direction  of  the  Bixby  place; 
and  there's  a  report  that  Sandy  Burns  was  seen 
going  from  the  lake  early  this  morning;  and  there 
are  footprints  right  across  the  cemetery,  leading 


482      THE  SINS  OF  THE  FATHERS 

from  the  Bixbys'  gate  in  the  stone  wall  clean  down 
to  the  lake  and  back  again.' 

"  Jean  slipped  behind  a  pile  of  boxes  and 
pressed  her  hand  over  her  heart  to  stop  its  beat- 
ing; and  for  fear  the  men  should  look  up  and 
recognize  her,  she  took  the  further  precaution  to 
pull  down  her  thick  brown  veil  over  her  face. 
The  men  evidently  did  not  see  her;  for  the  lamps 
had  not  yet  been  lighted  and  a  semi-darkness  per- 
vaded the  store. 

" '  That  puts  me  in  mind,  I  saw  Don  Bixby 
down  at  Buck's  yesterday  afternoon ;  and  again 
about  eight  o'clock  last  night  going  up  the  road 
heading  towards  home,'  said  one  man,  as  if  just 
recalling  the  fact. 

"  '  Well,  can't  they  tell  by  the  looks  of  the  man 
whether  it's  Don  Bixby  or  not?'  asked  another, 
squirting  a  stream  of  tobacco  juice  into  a  box  of 
sawdust. 

"  *  No,  'cause  the  head  is  missing.  Yer  see 
there  ain't  nothing  but  the  trunk  and  one  arm  ;  and 
they  were  tied  up  in  an  old  shawl  of  Jean  Burns ; 
and  then  the  bundle  was  wrapped  up  in  Don's 
coat.' 

"  '  How  do  they  know  it  is  Jean's  shawl?  '  asked 
another. 

"  '  Oh,  somebody  identified  the  shawl  right  off, 
and  Don's  name  was  on  the  coat.' 

"  '  Has  the  police  suspicion  of  any  one?  ' 

"  *  Well,  you  know  thar  has  been  a  bad  feeling 
between  Don  and  Norman  all  their  lives.'  There 


JETHRO'S  STORY 

was  a  measure  of  insinuation  in  the  answer  that 
sent  a  shiver  through  Jean. 

"  '  But  you  don't  think  Norman  Bixby  would 
murder  his  brother ! '  The  tone  of  the  speaker 
was  highly  resentful. 

"  '  I  don't  say  that  he  would,  or  that  he  did ; 
but  there  is  another  suspicious  feature  about  the 
affair.  Norman  Bixby  was  seen  to  take  an  early 
train  this  morning,  and  the  office  boy  says  he  has 
not  been  at  his  office  all  day.  The  sheriff  is  wait- 
ing to  see  if  he  comes  in  on  this  next  train.  If  he 
doesn't,  then  they  are  going  out  to  the  Bixby  place 
and  arrest  Sandy  Burns.' 

"  At  this  moment,  the  door  was  opened  and  sev- 
eral children  romped  into  the  store.  Jean  took  ad- 
vantage of  their  entrance  by  slipping  out,  as  they 
trooped  in.  It  was  nearly  dark  by  this  time,  and 
no  one  noticed  Jean  as  she  glided  past  the  children. 
The  store-keeper  immediately  turned  his  attention 
to  lighting  his  lamps ;  the  men  went  on  with  their 
discussion ;  and  the  children  began  their  inspection 
of  the  candy  case,  which  enabled  Jean  to  get  away 
unobserved. 

"  Almost  dazed  by  what  she  had  heard,  Jean 
tottered  down  the  steps  to  the  sleigh  and  with 
trembling  hands  pulled  off  old  Dobbin's  blanket 
and  gathered  up  the  reins.  She  scrambled  into 
the  sleigh  and  gave  poor  Dobbin  such  a  lash  with 
the  whip  as  he  had  not  had  for  many  a  day. 
After  that  Dobbin  needed  no  further  urging.  He 
dashed  home  like  the  wind,  and  kept  Jean  on  the 


484      THE  SINS  OF  THE  FATHERS 

alert  to  prevent  the  sleigh  from  being  ditched  in 
a  snow  drift. 

"  All  the  way  home  her  brain  was  in  a  whirl. 
She  recalled  the  pistol  shot  of  the  night  before  and 
the  disappearance  of  Don  in  the  early  morning. 
Then  the  thought  came  to  her  that  she  had  not 
seen  Norman  since  he  ate  his  breakfast.  Dobbin 
tore  up  the  road  at  a  lively  pace,  smarting  under 
the  lash,  and  at  last  dashed  in  at  the  gate  and 
brought  up  with  a  sudden  stop  at  the  kitchen 
door. 

"  She  sprang  from  the  sleigh  and  rushed  wildly 
into  the  house,  tearing  off  her  hood  and  veil  as  she 
dashed  into  the  kitchen.  Sandy  sat  calmly  read- 
ing his  paper.  Rushing  up  to  him  and  throwing 
her  arms  round  his  neck,  she  burst  into  tears  and 
sobbed  hysterically. 

"  '  Whatever  is  the  matter?  '  asked  Sandy,  try- 
ing to  soothe  her. 

"  Her  sobs  and  cries  reached  Norman  in  his 
study,  and  he  hastened  downstairs  to  learn  the 
cause.  It  was  some  time  before  Jean  was  suf- 
ficiently calm  to  tell  them  what  she  had  over- 
heard. Between  her  sobs  and  moans  she  told  them 
all,  though  in  a  rather  disjointed  way.  Her  story 
was  clear  enough,  however,  to  make  both  men  turn 
pale.  When  she  had  finished,  Norman  was 
trembling  so  that  his  limbs  could  no  longer  hold 
him,  and  he  sank  helplessly  into  a  chair. 

"  Sandy  looked  at  his  wife,  then  at  Norman,  for 
a  moment  ere  he  spoke.  Slowly  the  color  returned 


JETHRO'S  STORY  48S 

to  his  cheeks  and  mounted  to  his  temples  in  an 
angry  flush.  Dropping  Jean's  hand  —  which  he 
had  been  holding  and  rubbing  in  his  endeavors  to 
quiet  her  excited  nerves  —  he  threw  his  arm  over 
Norman's  shoulder  and  burst  forth  in  vehement 
tones, 

"  '  I  see  the  devil's  hoof  noo !  But  we  shall  balk 
him  yet,  whatever  his  designs  are!  But  ye  main 
flee,  Norman,  and  leave  this  ta  me ;  I'll  face  it 
alone ! ' 

"  '  No,  Sandy,  I  shall  not  flee ! '  said  Norman, 
regaining  his  self-possession  and  throwing  his 
head  back  with  a  determined  air.  *  Why  should 
I  ?  Such  a  course  would  be  cowardly ;  it  would 
be  construed  as  guilt.  No,  I  shall  not  flee ! ' 

"  '  But  you  must ! '  insisted  Sandy,  bringing  his 
jaws  together  with  a  tenacious  snap. 

"  *  But  I  don't  see  it  in  that  light,  Sandy,'  per- 
sisted Norman,  gazing  at  the  set  face  of  Sandy 
with  a  fearless  light  in  his  eyes. 

"  *  But  you  must  go  ! '  insisted  Sandy. 

"'Why?' 

"  *  Because  Norman  Bixby  was  seen  leaving 
town  on  an  early  train  the  morn ;  and  you  will  hae 
a  mighty  hard  job  ta  convince  ony  jury  that  ye 
didna  go  an'  carry  awau  the  ither  portions  o'  thon 
body.  Don't  you  see  the  cuteness  o'  the  imp? 
He  has  worn  aff  a  suit  o'  your  clothes  es  he  used 
ta  do  i'  the  old  days  when  he  wanted  ta  fix  his 
pranks  on  you?  ' 

"  *  That  is  self-evident,  Sandy,  but  if  I  remain 


here  I  can  easily  prove  that  it  was  Don  and  not  I 
who  went  off  this  morning,'  replied  Norman  with 
the  innocence  of  a  layman. 

"  *  Ye  maunna  be  too  sure  o*  that.  Think. 
Here  is  a  dismembered  body  found  wrapped  in  a 
coat  o'  a  missing  man  who  was  last  seen  coming  i' 
the  direction  o'  this  house.  Then  you  are  seen  go- 
ing aff  early  i'  the  morning.  Ye  hae  na  been  ta 
your  office  the  day.  Noo  i'  the  face  o'  this,  whau's 
ta  prove  that  ye  didna  go?  Don'll  na  come  back 
ta  prove  it ;  for  I'm  thinking  there'll  be  some  ugly 
facts  ta  face  in  connection  we  thon  body.  And 
it's  a  question  i'  my  mind  whether  ony  jury '11  tak 
ither  my  word  or  Jean's.  I  tell  you,  Norman,  you 
must  go  and  search  the  warld  over,  if  need  be,  and 
find  that  devil  and  bring  him  back.  Jean  will 
stand  by  me;  and  we'll  both  stand  by  you.  Now 
go !  for  God's  sake  go !  Remember  my  life  is  at 
stake  as  weel  as  your  own ! ' 

"  Norman  sprang  from  his  chair  and  grasped 
Sandy's  hands  and  pressed  them  heartily.  His 
face  beamed  with  love  and  admiration  as  he  ex- 
claimed, 

"  *  No,  my  dear  old  friend !  I  will  not  accept 
such  a  sacrifice  from  you !  God  knows  I  have 
done  nothing  wrong !  Neither  have  you  !  I  shall 
stay  and  defend  us  both.  I  told  you  this  morning 
that  the  fang  of  the  serpent  was  in  that  trail. 
The  sting  has  found  me ;  but  I'll  face  it  like  a  man 
and  abide  by  the  results  ! ' 

"  *  But  think,  Norman,  if  you  go,  you  may  find 


JETHRO'S  STORY  487 

Don,  bring  him  back  and  save  us  all.  Go,  for 
God's  sake,  for  Jean's  sake,  for  Lida's  sake;  and 
for  the  honor  of  your  father's  memory ! '  pleaded 
Sandy. 

"  Just  at  that  moment  a  terrific  ring  of  the  front 
door  bell  startled  them.  Jean  ran  to  the  window, 
and  looking  out,  saw  the  sheriff's  rig  standing  in 
the  road,  and  several  men  coming  towards  the  side 
door.  Rushing  back,  she  pushed  Norman  towards 
the  stair  door  and  begged  him  to  go. 

"  For  a  moment  he  hesitated.  The  ring  of  the 
bell  vibrated  through  the  house  again.  The  foot- 
steps on  the  hard  snow  grew  nearer. 

"  '  Go !  for  God's  sake  go,  Mesther  Norman ! 
Go  and  find  Don  and  bring  him  back ! '  pleaded 
Jean  frantically,  opening  the  stair  door. 

"  He  could  resist  no  longer. 

"  *  I  will  take  your  advice,  friends,  and  for  your 
sakes  I  will  seek  Don  and  bring  him  back,  dead  or 
alive ;  and  may  God  help  us  all ! '  he  said  hurriedly, 
wringing  their  hands.  Then  he  dashed  up  the 
back  stairs  and  entered  his  study ;  and  here  he  dis- 
appeared —  disappeared  as  completely  as  if  the 
earth  had  opened  and  swallowed  him  up. 

"  Hardly  had  the  stair  door  closed  on  him  ere 
the  sheriff  and  his  men  burst  into  the  kitchen  and 
placed  Sandy  and  Jean  under  arrest. 

"  It  so  happened  that  the  tutor,  who  had  always 
made  his  home  here,  was  away  spending  a  few  days 
in  town ;  so  he  escaped  suspicion  of  any  implica- 
tion in  the  crime. 


488      THE  SINS  OF  THE  FATHERS 

"  Of  course,  Sandy  told  his  story  in  a  straight- 
forward manner;  but  as  there  was  nobody  to  sub- 
stantiate it,  it  fell  flat  on  the  ears  of  the  sheriff. 
Search  was  made  for  the  missing  parts  of  the 
body,  but  they  have  never  been  found.  And  al- 
though big  rewards  have  been  offered  for  the  ap- 
prehension of  Norman,  no  trace  of  him  has  ever 
been  discovered. 

"  Sandy  was  indicted,  but  he  has  not  yet  been 
brought  to  trial.  He  is  still  in  prison,  waiting 
patiently  for  Norman's  return.  Both  he  and  Jean 
are  hopeful  and  confident  that  Norman  will  find 
Don  and  all  will  be  well. 

"  Nearly  two  years  have  passed  since  that 
December  night,  yet  no  trace  of  either  of  the 
young  men  has  been  found.  The  house  was  closed, 
and  up  to  your  coming,  no  one  could  be  induced 
to  live  in  it.  It  has  the  reputation  of  being 
haunted ;  and  all  sorts  of  stories  have  been  circu- 
lated about  the  doings  round  the  place.  Lights 
have  been  seen  flashing  through  the  house ;  strange 
noises  have  been  heard ;  and  a  man  is  sometimes 
seen  pacing  the  library  floor  with  a  lighted  candle 
in  his  hand,  but  when  anyone  tries  to  catch  him, 
he  vanishes  and  melts  into  air." 

"  There  he  is  now !  "  exclaimed  Nellie,  clutching 
Mrs.  Bent  by  the  arm  and  fixing  her  eyes  on  the 
upper  story  window  in  terror;  and  sure  enough, 
there  stood  a  man,  silhouetted  against  the  white 
curtain.  In  one  hand  he  held  a  lighted  candle 
which  he  shaded  with  the  other.  He  paused  but 


JETHRO'S  STORY  489 

an  instant  before  the  window,  and  then  moved 
slowly  about  the  room  as  if  looking  for  something. 

The  first  shock  of  surprise  gave  way  to  a  feel- 
ing of  indignation  in  the  mind  of  Mr.  Bent,  who, 
springing  to  his  feet,  exclaimed, 

"  I'll  make  the  acquaintance  of  that  gentleman 
and  learn  his  business  in  my  house ! "  and  suiting 
the  action  to  the  word,  he  made  a  dash  for  the 
front  door. 

Quick  as  a  flash  Jethro's  fiddle  was  in  its  place 
and  the  tune  of  "Old  Dan  Tucker"  floated 
weirdly  out  on  the  night  air.  He  stood  exactly 
as  he  had  risen  from  his  chair  when  Nellie  spoke. 
His  right  arm  swung  vigorously  as  the  bow  swept 
over  the  strings,  and  his  whole  body  swayed  in 
unison. 

Suddenly  the  light  in  the  upper  chamber  went 
out  and  the  house  was  plunged  in  total  darkness, 
save  for  the  silvery  beams  of  the  full  round  moon 
which  fell  aslant  the  window-panes,  setting  the 
glass  a-glitter.  Simultaneously  with  the  snuffing 
out  of  the  candle,  the  fiddle  ceased;  and  an  invol- 
untary sigh  of  relief  came  from  the  lips  of  the 
player. 

Jethro's  story  had  been  so  interesting,  and  his 
listeners  had  been  so  absorbed  in  his  manner  of 
telling  it,  that  they  had  not  minded  the  closing  in 
of  night.  For  the  air  was  still  warm  and  balmy, 
and  the  moon,  rolling  upward  like  a  huge  silver 
ball,  shed  a  canny  splendor  over  the  place  quite  in 
keeping  with  the  tale. 


Meanwhile,  Mr.  Bent  had  entered  the  house, 
lighted  the  lamp,  and  proceeded  on  his  tour  of  in- 
spection. Every  room  in  the  house  was  examined. 
He  visited  first  the  library  and  the  room  leading 
from  it;  then  he  went  carefully  over  the  house 
from  cellar  to  attic,  even  peering  into  the  gloomy 
loft  over  the  kitchen ;  but  no  sign  of  the  intruder 
was  to  be  seen.  Everything  was  in  its  usual 
place;  and  Mr.  Bent,  puzzled  and  vexed,  returned 
to  the  half  frightened  group  under  the  tree,  who 
had  kept  watch  outside,  and  who  assured  him 
when  he  made  his  appearance  that  no  one  had  left 
the  house  by  either  door. 

The  clock  was  striking  ten  when  Jethro  took 
his  departure.  As  he  ambled  into  the  path,  bid- 
ding his  hosts  "  Good  night "  as  he  moved,  Mrs. 
Bent  called  after  him, 

"  Mr.  Prowty !  I  am  interested  in  the  tutor,  and 
you  didn't  tell  us  what  became  of  him." 

Jethro  gave  a  start,  drew  his  hand  across  his 
forehead,  and  interrogated, 

"The  tutor?"  Then  as  if  he  was  mightily 
pleased,  he  went  on.  "  Oh,  yes,  I  remember,  there 
was  a  tutor.  Ha,  ha,  ha !  Well  —  durned  if  I 
aint  the  tutor  myself !  " 

And  with  this  he  swung  himself  down  the  path, 
through  the  gate,  which  he  closed  behind  him  with 
a  click,  struck  out  into  the  moonlit  road,  and  set 
off  in  the  direction  of  the  town. 


CHAPTER  XXIX 
THE  MAN  WITH  THE  CANDLE 

Not  wholly  satisfied  with  his  first  inspection  of 
the  premises,  Mr.  Bent  took  another  walk  round 
the  house  after  Jethro's  departure.  He  exam- 
ined thoroughly  every  inch  of  the  grounds,  shook 
the  stable  doors  to  make  sure  they  were  fastened, 
and  even  penetrated  into  the  dark  interior  of  the 
grape  arbor. 

Mrs.  Bent  and  Ruth,  meanwhile,  remained  un- 
der the  tree,  using  all  their  efforts  to  pacify  Nel- 
lie, who  was  on  the  verge  of  hysterics.  They 
themselves  were  almost  frightened  out  of  their 
senses ;  but  they  scorned  to  give  way  to  their  fears. 

At  length  Mr.  Bent  gave  up  the  search.  His 
face  wore  a  look  of  disgust  as  he  rejoined  the  lit- 
tle group  under  the  tree. 

"  The  whole  thing  is  a  hoax,  a  freak  of  our 
imagination !  "  he  exclaimed  impatiently.  "  I  de- 
serve a  good  all-round  kicking  for  biting  so  read- 
ily at  Jed's  delicious  morsel !  But  in  the  excite- 
ment of  the  moment  it  slipped  my  mind  completely 
that  Jed  is  a  proficient  in  legerdemain,  and  de- 
lights in  practicing  his  arts  on  the  unsuspecting. 
Now  he'll  go  and  ring  it  all  over  town  how  he 

fooled  me  and  I'll  be  the  butt  of  the  office  for  the 

491 


4-92      THE  SINS  OF  THE  FATHERS 

next  six  months.  By  Jove,  what  an  easy  mark  I 
was,  to  be  sure !  "  And  here  his  good  nature  got 
the  better  of  him  and  he  burst  into  a  peal  of 
laughter,  in  which  all  joined,  even  to  Nellie,  who 
a  moment  before  was  almost  crazed  with  fright. 

Gathering  up  the  chairs,  papers,  and  other 
things  which  had  been  scattered  about  in  confusion 
under  the  excitement  of  the  moments  following  the 
discovery  of  the  apparition,  Mr.  Bent  led  the  way 
into  the  house,  laughing  merrily  as  he  went  at 
Jethro's  bright  trick. 

It  was  nearly  twelve  o'clock  when  the  family 
separated  for  the  night,  and  retired  to  their  re- 
spective rooms.  And  shortly  after  the  house  was 
in  darkness. 

Ruth  had  been  assigned  to  the  room  which  had 
formerly  been  the  private  study  of  Mr.  Bixby, 
and  later  of  his  son  —  the  room  in  which,  accord- 
ing to  Jethro's  story,  the  elder  Mr.  Bixby  had 
met  his  death  at  the  hands  of  his  wayward  son. 
It  was  the  room,  also,  in  which  Jethro  had  placed 
the  apparition  of  the  man  with  the  candle.  Mrs. 
Bent  had  converted  it  into  a  guest  chamber. 

Though  Ruth  had  laughed  when  she  bade  her 
father  good-night  at  the  door  of  the  chamber, 
she  felt  a  slight  chill  creep  over  her  the  instant 
she  closed  the  door.  She  cast  a  timid  glance  over 
her  shoulder  as  she  set  the  lamp  on  the  bureau. 
But  seeing  nothing  to  alarm  her,  she  laughed  at 
her  fears. 

Of  a  naturally  sanguine  and  courageous  dispo- 


THE  MAN  WITH  THE  CANDLE      493 

sition,  she  had  no  aversion  to  sleeping  alone  in  a 
room  where  one,  possibly  two,  tragic  deaths  had 
occurred.  In  fact,  after  the  first  little  qualm  of 
timidity  had  passed  off,  she  felt  perfectly  at  ease, 
and  rather  enjoyed  the  novelty  of  the  situation. 
While  brushing  and  braiding  her  long  hair  for 
the  night,  she  moved  freely  about  the  large  room, 
examining  the  quaint  designs  on  wall  and  wood- 
work. The  murals  were  exquisite  bits  of  tones 
of  sylvan  scenes.  Here,  as  in  the  sitting-room 
below,  the  wainscotings  were  of  oak  and  were  mar- 
vels of  the  wood  carver's  art.  The  mantel,  round- 
ing gently  out  above  the  open  fire-place,  was  of 
such  unsurpassing  beauty  that  she  gave  a  little 
exclamation  of  delight  as  she  studied  it  more  mi- 
nutely. 

When  at  last  she  was  ready  for  bed,  she  tried 
the  rear  door,  which  she  knew  opened  into  the  loft 
and  also  led  to  the  kitchen  stairs.  The  door  was 
locked  and  the  key  nowhere  in  sight.  Having  as- 
sured herself  that  all  was  safe,  she  blew  out  the 
light,  drew  aside  the  muslin  curtains  to  allow  the 
moonlight  to  shine  in,  and  crept  into  bed. 

The  moon,  high  in  the  west,  poured  a  stream  of 
clear,  silvery  light  in  through  the  oriel  window, 
and  flooded  the  room  with  a  soft  radiance  that 
made  it  almost  as  light  as  day.  A  gentle  breeze 
tossed  the  slender  boughs  of  the  apple-tree,  whose 
topmost  branches  rose  above  the  level  of  the  win- 
dow. Though  fatigued  by  her  long  journey  and 
the  length  of  the  day,  for  she  had  been  up  since 


494      THE  SINS  OF  THE  FATHERS 

four  o'clock  that  morning,  she  could  not  close  her 
eyes.  She  lay  as  in  a  dream,  with  wide-open  eyes, 
gazing  at  the  weird,  flickering  shadows  cast  by 
the  swaying  branches  on  the  moonlit  walls. 

Her  mind  was  a  chaos  of  troubled  fancies. 
There  was  Robert  and  Dr.  Craig  and  her  grand- 
mother and  Bell  and  Frank,  all  trooping  before 
her  vision  with  kaleidoscopic  rapidity  of  change 
that  was  truly  bewildering.  Then  her  thoughts 
reverted  to  the  strange  story  of  the  house  in  which 
she  found  herself  an  inmate,  and  wondered  if  the 
story  was  a  fake  as  well  as  the  apparition.  Pon- 
dering thus,  she  became  conscious  of  a  click  in 
the  lock  of  the  door  leading  from  the  loft,  just  at 
the  foot  of  her  bed.  She  held  her  breath  and  lay 
rigid,  her  eyes  intently  fixed  on  the  door. 

The  door  opened  softly,  pushed  by  an  invisible 
hand.  Then  there  was  a  pause.  The  faintest 
glimmer  of  light  came  through  the  opening.  The 
next  instant  a  heavily  bearded  man  glided  stealth- 
ily into  the  room.  In  one  hand  he  carried  a 
lighted  candle,  whose  flickering  flame  he  shaded 
with  the  other  to  prevent  it  from  being  blown  out 
by  the  draft  from  the  open  window.  He  crossed 
to  the  mantelpiece,  where  he  placed  the  candle  in 
a  small  silver  candlestick.  Whether  by  accident 
or  design,  he  set  the  candlestick  so  that  the  light 
fell  full  on  her  face.  He  wore  large  green  gog- 
gles, and  during  all  this  time  he  did  not  remove 
them  for  an  instant  from  her  terror-stricken  face. 

He  stood  looking  down  on  her  for  a  second,  as 


THE  MAN  WITH  THE  CANDLE      495 

if  hesitating;  then  bending  over  the  bed  he  whis- 
pered, 

"  Don't  be  alarmed,  miss.  I  shall  not  harm  you 
or  anyone  in  this  house.  I  am  here  only  to  get 
something  that  belongs  to  me,  something  I  need 
very  much.  After  I  have  gotten  it,  I  shall  retire 
as  I  came.  I  ask  only  one  favor  of  you:  that  is, 
if  you  would  not  add  to  the  burdens  of  an  al- 
ready unhappy  man,  do  not  speak  of  this  visit 
to  anyone.  I  feel  I  can  trust  you.  Do  not  dis- 
appoint me!  " 

She  could  not  answer  him ;  neither  could  she 
move  a  muscle.  She  could  only  stare  at  him  in 
open-eyed  terror. 

Straightening  up  to  his  full  height,  and  with 
his  great,  glaring  goggles  still  holding  her  as  if 
in  a  trance,  he  reached  up  with  his  right  hand  and 
opened  a  secret  drawer  inset  in  the  carved  wood- 
work above  the  mantel.  Taking  therefrom  a 
small  package  and  thrusting  it  into  his  breast 
pocket,  he  attempted  to  push  the  drawer  back  into 
place.  But  it  would  not  yield  to  the  pressure. 
He  changed  his  position  slightly  and  grasped  the 
edge  of  the  mantel  with  his  left  hand,  where  it 
rested  a  second  under  the  glimmer  of  the  candle- 
light. 

Though  she  could  neither  speak  nor  move,  her 
senses  were  keenly  alert.  In  the  brief  space  of 
time  that  his  hand  rested  in  the  light,  she  caught 
the  flash  of  a  circlet  of  scintillating  gems  on  the 
little  finger  of  his  left  hand. 


He  closed  the  drawer,  took  up  the  candle,  and 
with  panther-like  steps  traversed  the  intervening 
space  to  the  door,  which  he  had  left  ajar  when  he 
entered.  He  paused  on  the  threshold  with  his 
hand  on  the  knob  and  bowed  to  her,  then  backed 
out,  drew  the  door  to  noiselessly  after  him,  and 
disappeared. 

Instantly  the  spell  was  broken.  She  sprang  to 
the  floor  quivering  in  every  limb  with  curiosity. 
Fear,  discretion,  caution,  and  prudence,  all  were 
forgotten  in  her  mad  desire  to  see  whence  her 
strange  visitor  went.  The  door  was  unlocked. 
She  threw  it  wide  open  and  peered  into  a  yawning 
abyss  of  blackness.  Not  even  the  glimmer  of  the 
candle  relieved  the  awful  darkness  which  stretched 
before  her  vision.  And  the  stillness  of  a  tomb 
reigned  over  it.  For  a  second  she  stood  motion- 
less, then  something  happened,  she  could  never  tell 
just  what.  The  door  swung  to  and  forced  her 
over  the  threshold.  Not  knowing  the  peculiar  con- 
struction of  the  stairs  at  that  point,  she  stepped 
into  space.  She  clutched  wildly  at  the  air  when 
she  felt  herself  going.  Luckily,  she  grasped  the 
wooden  railing  which  guarded  the  stairs  on  the 
side  of  the  loft.  This  sustained  her  light  weight 
but  a  moment,  yet  it  broke  the  force  of  her  fall, 
and  perhaps  saved  her  life.  The  rail  was  rotten 
with  age,  and  almost  instantly  gave  way  in  her 
hands ;  and  with  a  piercing  scream  she  pitched 
headlong  down  the  stairs,  carrying  the  greater 
part  of  the  railing  with  her. 


THE  MAN  WITH  THE  CANDLE      497 

Her  scream,  together  with  the  noise  of  her  fall 
and  the  splintering  of  wood,  woke  the  household 
and  brought  them  in  consternation  and  alarm  to 
her  room.  The  moon  shining  in  at  the  window 
gave  sufficient  light  to  show  the  empty  bed.  Mrs. 
Bent  hastily  lighted  the  lamp  on  the  bureau,  while 
Mr.  Bent  made  an  examination  of  the  room.  He 
looked  under  the  bed  and  in  the  closet,  but  Ruth 
was  not  there.  Then  he  tried  the  door,  and  found 
that  it  was  not  catched.  He  opened  it  and  stepped 
out  on  the  landing,  followed  by  his  wife  with  the 
light.  Peering  down  through  a  cloud  of  dust 
and  a  clutter  of  splintered  wood,  he  saw  a  mass 
of  white  muslin  lying  in  a  shapeless  heap  at  the 
bottom  of  the  stairs. 

Frantically  he  rushed  down  the  front  stairs  and 
into  the  kitchen,  closely  followed  by  Mrs.  Bent  and 
Nellie.  Opening  the  stair  door,  he  drew  his  un- 
conscious daughter  from  among  the  debris;  and 
gathering  her  in  his  strong  arms,  he  carried  her 
upstairs  and  laid  her  on  his  own  bed.  Mrs.  Bent 
and  Nellie  now  pulled  themselves  together  and 
began  their  work  of  resuscitation,  while  Mr.  Bent 
dressed  hastily  and  started  for  a  doctor. 

It  was  broad  daylight  when  Ruth  opened  her 
eyes  and  looked  into  the  anxious  faces  of  those 
about  her.  She  seemed  a  little  surprised  to  see 
them  standing  around  her  bed. 

"  Have  I  slept  too  long?  "  she  asked  with  a  lit- 
tle nervous  laugh,  glancing  from  one  to  the  other, 
as  though  annoyed  at  their  presence  in  her  room. 


498      THE  SINS  OF  THE  FATHERS 

"  Why,  no,  dear,"  answered  her  father,  patting 
her  hand.  "  You  met  with  an  accident  last  night 
and  we  are  somewhat  anxious  to  see  how  you  are 
coming  out.  We  are  thankful,  dear,  to  see  you 
wake  up  so  bright  and  cheerful." 

"  An  accident  ?  "  she  repeated  in  a  bewildered 
tone.  "  What  kind  of  an  accident?  " 

Her  father  explained  how  they  had  been  awak- 
ened by  her  scream  and  how  they  had  found  her 
unconscious  at  the  foot  of  the  stairs;  to  all  of 
which  she  listened  in  silence  and  astonishment. 

"  Now,"  continued  her  father,  "  what  I  would 
like  to  know  is,  how  you  got  that  door  open,  for  I 
myself  locked  it  last  night  before  you  went  into 
the  room,  and  had  the  key  in  my  pocket.  And 
furthermore,  Nellie  is  positive  that  the  door  was 
bolted  on  the  outside." 

She  glanced  from  one  to  the  other  with  a  puz- 
zled look  in  her  eyes.  Her  brows  puckered  into  a 
frown ;  and  she  seemed  to  make  a  painful  effort  to 
recall  some  incident  of  the  past  night ;  but  all  to 
no  effect.  Her  mind  was  a  total  blank  to  every- 
thing that  had  happened  after  bidding  her  father 
"  Good  night." 

This  only  deepened  the  mystery.  It  was 
thought  best,  however,  not  to  tax  her  memory  too 
much  for  the  present;  so  the  matter  was  allowed 
to  rest.  But  Mr.  Bent's  face  wore  a  very  grave 
expression  when  he  turned  away  from  the  bed. 

To   appease   Nellie,  whose   superstition   played 


THE  MAN  WITH  THE  CANDLE      499 

havoc  with  her  common  sense,  the  doors  of  the  old 
library  were  locked  and  doubly  bolted ;  and  in  ad- 
dition to  this  precaution,  a  heavy  oaken  clothes- 
press  was  pushed  over  against  the  door  leading 
to  the  loft ;  so  that  by  the  middle  of  the  forenoon 
a  sense  of  security  had  settled  over  the  household ; 
and  a  measure  of  tranquillity  had  been  restored. 

Fortunately,  Ruth's  injuries  were  not  as  bad  as 
at  first  feared.  A  slight  contusion  of  the  head 
and  a  few  scratches  and  bruises  on  her  hands  and 
arms  were  the  only  visible  signs  of  her  terrible  ex- 
perience. But  the  blank  in  her  memory  worried 
her  father,  and  caused  Mrs.  Bent  no  small  amount 
of  uneasiness.  The  doctor  assured  them  there 
was  nothing  to  be  alarmed  about,  but  insisted 
that  she  remain  in  bed  for  that  day  at  least.  So 
it  happened  that  Ruth  did  not  attend  church  that 
bright  Sunday  morning,  and  in  consequence  missed 
meeting  an  old  acquaintance. 

Monday  morning  she  was  up  with  the  sun,  ap- 
parently as  well  as  ever,  save  for  a  little  soreness 
of  the  bruised  parts  of  her  hands  and  arms.  Even 
this  was  forgotten  ere  noon  under  the  novel  ex- 
citement of  watching  the  preparations  going  on 
for  the  opening  of  the  fair  on  the  morrow.  A 
constant  procession  of  carts,  wagons,  and  vehicles 
of  all  sizes  and  descriptions,  loaded  with  fruits, 
flowers,  vegetables,  and  every  kind  of  flesh,  fish, 
and  fowl  conceivable,  moved  over  the  highway  to 
the  grounds,  to  say  nothing  of  the  droves  of  cat- 


500      THE  SINS  OF  THE  FATHERS 

tie,  flocks  of  sheep,  and  incidental  bands  of  stroll- 
ing freaks,  all  of  which  kept  her  curiosity  whet- 
ted to  a  keen  edge  the  greater  part  of  the  day. 

Ruth  found  other  points  of  interest  as  well  as 
these;  for  she  had  become  strangely  infatuated 
with  the  old  house  with  its  rich  carvings,  stained- 
glass  windows,  and  delicate  murals ;  and  ere  noon 
she  had  ransacked  every  nook  and  corner  of  it 
from  attic  to  cellar.  Even  the  loft,  despite  the 
mishap,  held  no  terrors  for  her  imagination ;  and 
she  tiptoed  across  the  dust-covered  beams  of  the 
long,  gloomy,  open  space,  and  examined  with  fe- 
verish curiosity  the  trundle-bed  and  several  pieces 
of  discarded  furniture  of  bygone  days,  which  lay 
scattered  about  in  confusion,  covered  with  dust 
and  cobwebs,  at  the  farther  end.  A  large  rocking- 
horse  and  a  pile  of  broken  toys  in  one  corner 
turned  her  thoughts  to  the  sad  fate  of  the  boys 
who  had  once  taken  delight  in  these  trinkets ;  and 
dropping  on  the  edge  of  the  little  bed,  she  viewed 
the  desolation  around  her,  while  tears  of  sympathy 
welled  in  her  eyes. 

But  singular  to  relate,  nothing  that  she  saw  in 
the  house,  in  the  loft,  nor  yet  in  the  dark,  yawn- 
ing, gulf-like  stairway  with  its  broken  rail,  had 
power  to  unlock  the  secret  chamber  of  memory 
in  regard  to  the  incidents  of  Saturday  night. 
Though  she  tried  hard  to  recall  what  had  oc- 
curred, tried  till  her  head  began  to  ache,  her  mind 
refused  to  respond,  and  remained  a  blank  through 
it  all. 


THE  MAN  WITH  THE  CANDLE      501 

Towards  evening  she  found  herself  wandering 
aimlessly  about  the  grounds,  which  were  spacious, 
and  which,  for  all  of  their  neglected  condition, 
showed  the  same  artistic  taste  in  their  laying  out 
and  embellishment  as  was  shown  throughout  the 
house.  Rare  trees  and  shrubs  of  many  varieties 
lined  the  paths,  or  broke  the  long  grassy  stretches 
of  level  land.  There  was  but  one  flower  bed  in 
the  whole  enclosure.  This  was  an  immense  star 
spread  in  the  center  of  the  front  lawn.  Mrs.  Bent 
had  done  her  best  to  redeem  it  by  weeding  it  out 
and  planting  it  with  salvia,  which  was  now  in  full 
bloom  and  made  a  startling  bit  of  life  and  color 
amid  the  general  waste  of  its  surroundings. 

Along  the  foot  of  the  heavy  wall  in  the  rear 
which  separated  the  grounds  from  the  cemetery, 
vines  of  almost  every  description  had  been  planted 
and  allowed  to  clamber  up  its  cold  gray  sides,  and 
to  run  rampant,  stem  and  branch  interlacing  stem 
and  branch  in  wanton  license  over  its  top  with  a 
most  pleasing  effect.  A  narrow  gravelled  path, 
fringed  by  a  border  of  old-fashioned  June  pinks 
now  sadly  overrun  with  weeds,  led  from  the  green- 
house to  the  grape  arbor,  and  thence  to  the  iron 
gate  that  opened  into  the  cemetery. 

Led  by  her  inclination  alone,  she  had  sauntered 
leisurely  through  the  greenhouse,  now  stripped  of 
its  verdure  and  bloom,  and  emerged  on  the  pink- 
bordered  path.  She  paused,  struck  by  the  beauty 
of  the  scene.  Involuntarily  she  took  a  deep  in- 
breath,  as  if  the  fragrance  of  June  still  lingered 


502      THE  SINS  OF  THE  FATHERS 

about  the  few  faded  blossoms  whose  withered  faces 
peeped  pitifully  up  from  among  the  dainty  green. 
Then  she  followed  the  path  down  and  entered  the 
grape  arbor.  The  grapes  hung  in  great  luscious 
bunches  from  the  vines ;  but  she  was  not  to  be 
tempted.  She  passed  on,  and  finding  the  gate 
partly  open,  pushed  her  way  through  and  entered 
the  city  of  the  dead.  It  presented  a  lonely,  deso- 
late, yet  an  enchanting,  scene. 

The  low  green  mounds,  with  their  stiff  white 
stones  of  many  ages,  stretched  away  on  all  sides. 
Magnificent  trees  rose  on  every  hand,  trees  whose 
gaudily  colored  leaves  were  sighing  a  last  requiem, 
telling  the  story  in  brilliant  language  that  we  too 
must  pass  away.  Through  a  vista  of  bright  color 
she  caught  a  glimpse  of  the  beautiful  Winnepesau- 
kee  sparkling  in  the  sunlight ;  and  almost  uncon- 
sciously she  moved  towards  it.  A  few  steps 
brought  her  within  the  shadow  of  a  white  marble 
shaft,  which  she  instantly  recognized  as  the  me- 
morial spoken  of  by  Jethro  on  Saturday  night  as 
having  been  erected  by  Mr.  Bixby  in  honor  of  his 
wife. 

Yes,  there  was  the  name,  "  Melicent,"  in  letters 
of  tarnished  gold  on  the  pedestal.  This  much  of 
his  story,  then,  was  not  a  fake.  She  drew  nearer 
to  read  the  inscription,  when  she  was  startled  to 
see  a  man  with  bare  and  bowed  head  standing  mo- 
tionless on  the  other  side.  She  gave  a  little  gasp 
of  astonishment,  which  caused  him  to  raise  his 


THE  MAN  WITH  THE  CANDLE      503 

head.  Their  eyes  met.  She  tried  to  speak ;  but 
her  tongue  seemed  to  cleave  to  the  roof  of  her 
mouth ;  and  before  she  could  collect  herself,  he  had 
replaced  his  hat,  drawing  it  down  over  his  eyes, 
passed  round  to  the  rear  of  the  shaft,  and  was 
gone. 

He  disappeared  so  quickly  and  noiselessly  that 
she  could  not  tell  whither  he  went.  It  seemed  as 
if  the  earth  had  opened  and  swallowed  him  up ; 
while  she  stood  in  the  path  gazing  vacantly  into 
space. 

"  What  does  it  mean  ?  What  is  Dr.  Craig  do- 
ing here?  When  did  he  come,  and  why  did  he  not 
speak  to  me?  "  These  were  the  questions  that 
flashed  through  her  mind  when  she  recovered  from 
her  surprise.  An  uncanny  chill  crept  over  her  and 
she  shuddered.  Then  turning  abruptly,  she  fled 
back  to  the  house. 

She  entered  the  house  by  the  front  door  and 
reached  her  room  unobserved.  Mrs.  Bent  and  Nel- 
lie heard  her  come  in,  but  were  too  busy  preparing 
supper  to  take  any  further  notice  of  her  coming. 
She  dashed  up  the  stairs  and  into  her  room,  very 
much  out  of  breath  and  very  much  perturbed  in 
spirit.  Throwing  herself  into  her  father's  easy- 
chair,  she  tried  to  collect  her  thoughts  and  to  con- 
vert them  into  something  like  a  rational  train. 
But  the  more  she  endeavored  to  think,  to  connect 
past  events  with  present  adventures,  the  more  she 
became  bewildered.  Her  mind  simply  would  not 


504      THE  SINS  OF  THE  FATHERS 

act  with  any  sort  of  coherence,  and  her  temples 
throbbed  painfully  with  her  efforts  to  bring  it  un- 
der control. 

The  nervous  strain  was  growing  intense.  She 
felt  that  she  was  losing  herself,  going  mad.  The 
horror  of  it  was  upon  her  when  her  father's  voice, 
calling  her  to  supper,  broke  the  spell  that  was 
creeping  over  her.  She  bounded  to  her  feet  and 
shivered  as  she  glanced  apprehensively  about  the 
room  in  the  gathering  twilight..  Then  she  slowly 
recovered  herself  and  nibbed  her  eyes.  Had  she 
been  asleep  and  dreaming?  Surely  she  had.  With 
this  thought  came  a  droll  little  laugh ;  and  trip- 
ping gaily  down  the  stairs  she  kissed  her  father 
with  a  smile  in  the  hall  below.  He  put  his  arm 
round  her  and  together  they  went  in  to  supper, 
where,  amid  the  general  good  cheer,  she  succeeded 
in  convincing  herself  that  her  visit  to  the  cemetery 
was  merely  a  freak  of  her  fevered  fancy  in  the  land 
of  dreams. 

Next  morning  Ruth  was  awakened  bright  and 
early  by  the  sounds  of  life  which  began  to  fill  the 
air  long  before  daylight,  and  which  increased 
with  every  moment.  Vehicles  of  all  kinds  were 
flying  back  and  forth  over  the  highway.  The 
tramp  of  many  feet,  the  lowing  of  cattle,  the 
neighing  of  horses,  the  pitiful  whinny  of  colts,  and 
the  bleating  of  sheep,  mingling  with  the  shouts 
and  curses  of  men  and  boys,  served  to  drive  sleep 
from  the  eyes  and  to  make  the  early  morning 
Jiours  hideous  with  sound. 


THE  MAN  WITH  THE  CANDLE      505 

Ten  o'clock  was  the  hour  announced  for  the  for- 
mal opening  of  the  fair.  But  long  before  the  hour 
named,  the  grounds  gave  evidence  of  great  activity 
and  of  New  England  thrift ;  for  everything  was  in 
full  swing, —  that  is,  everything  except  those  me- 
chanical devices  which  depend  on  the  pressing  of 
a  button  and  the  laudatory  words  of  the  governor 
or  his  lieutenant  to  set  them  in  motion. 

Mr.  Bent  was  fortunate  in  procuring  seats  for 
himself  and  Ruth  in  the  governor's  section  in  the 
grand-stand;  and  they  were  in  their  places  when 
the  governor  took  his  seat.  The  opening  exer- 
cises were  brief.  Scarcely  ten  minutes  elapsed 
from  the  governor's  entering  his  box  till  the  ma- 
chinery started  with  a  whirr.  At  the  same  mo- 
ment a  large  American  flag  was  flung  to  the 
breeze  as  the  band  struck  up  "  The  Star-Spangled 
Banner."  Then  a  deafening  shout  rent  the  air, 
prolonged  again  and  again.  Hats  waved,  hand- 
kerchiefs fluttered,  as  the  throng  seemed  to  real- 
ize that  the  all  important  moment  had  arrived 
when  fools  and  their  money  could  be  parted  with 
impunity. 

Ruth  was  interested  in  the  beautiful  horses  ex- 
hibited, and  in  the  races,  which  commenced  almost 
immediately  on  the  conclusion  of  the  preliminary 
exercises ;  and  she  watched  them  with  much  pleas- 
ure until  the  noon  hour.  After  dinner  they  did 
not  return  to  the  stand,  for  her  father  wanted 
her  to  see  some  of  the  other  features  of  the  fair; 
so  he  proposed  a  stroll  over  the  grounds.  This 


506      THE  SINS  OF  THE  FATHERS 

suited  Ruth  and  they  began  an  inspection  of  the 
novelties.  They  wandered  in  and  out  of  the  vari- 
ous buildings  and  enclosures  until  about  four 
o'clock,  when,  in  some  unaccountable  manner,  they 
became  separated  in  the  crowd. 

At  first  Ruth  was  annoyed  at  finding  herself 
alone;  but  remembering  how  short  a  distance  she 
was  from  home,  she  adjusted  herself  to  the  situa- 
tion with  a  sense  of  security,  and  very  soon  began 
to  enjoy  the  novelty  of  being  alone  in  a  big  crowd. 
It  was  a  peculiar  sensation,  that  of  feeling  ut- 
terly alone  among  the  thousands  of  sentient  beings 
like  herself.  Moving  with  the  throng,  she  was 
borne  into  the  midway,  the  midway  with  its  howl- 
ing medley  of  curious  sights  and  sounds.  Every- 
thing was  new  to  her  and  she  took  an  intense 
interest  in  it  all. 

Finally  she  came  to  a  tent  whose  great,  flaring, 
canvas  posters  flapping  in  the  breeze  attracted 
and  held  her  attention.  It  was  the  tent  in  which 
the  wild  men  of  Borneo  were  on  exhibition.  She 
had  read  something  about  the  little  men  in  the 
papers ;  and  now  an  irresistible  desire  to  see  them 
held  her  with  mesmeric  force  in  front  of  the  tent. 
Being  alone,  she  hesitated  about  indulging  her 
curiosity  by  patronizing  a  side  show ;  and  she  had 
quite  a  tussle  with  her  conscience  on  the  point  of 
the  propriety  of  it  ere  she  purchased  her  ticket 
and  went  in  with  the  crowd. 

At  the  moment  of  her  entrance  the  little  men 


THE  MAN  WITH  THE  CANDLE      507 

were  standing  on  a  high  platform  in  the  center  of 
a  large  circle  which  had  been  roped  off  to  keep  a 
clear  space,  so  that  the  spectators  might  have  an 
unobstructed  view  of  the  stage  from  all  points. 
The  lecturer  was  expatiating  on  the  wonderful 
adventures  of  the  little  fellows ;  and  Ruth  caught 
the  tone  of  the  man's  voice  as  in  a  dream  as  she 
skirted  the  crowd  in  search  of  standing  room 
where  she  could  see  the  tiny  men  to  advantage. 
At  last  she  found  a  vacant  space  and  edged  her 
way  in.  This  brought  her  face  to  face  with  the 
lecturer.  She  gasped  and  clutched  the  rope  con- 
vulsively and  riveted  her  eyes  on  his  face.  A  flood 
of  memories  rushed  through  her  brain.  Every  in- 
cident of  that  midnight  visit  flashed  vividly  across 
her  vision ;  for  there  on  the  platform  stood  her 
visitant,  bearded  and  goggled  as  then. 

The  lecture  ended;  and  the  little  fellows  per- 
formed their  stunts  of  boxing  and  wrestling. 
Having  finished  their  part  on  the  stage,  they 
bounded  into  the  sawdust  below  like  rubber  balls 
and  started  on  a  circuit  of  the  ring,  to  shake 
hands  with  their  patrons.  Ruth  saw  nothing  of 
their  antics.  She  stood  as  if  oblivious  to  every- 
thing except  the  presence  of  one  man.  So  intently 
did  her  eyes  follow  his  movements,  that  she  did  not 
see  the  approach  of  the  little  men  as  they  glided 
slowly  round  the  ring;  and  when  one  of  them  laid 
a  cold,  clammy  hand  on  hers,  she  gave  a  little 
scream,  dropped  the  rope  and  sprang  back  pale 


508      THE  SINS  OF  THE  FATHERS 

and  trembling.  In  an  instant  the  professor  was 
bending  over  the  rope  and  speaking  in  low,  musical 
accents. 

"  Don't  be  alarmed,  miss ;  they  are  perfectly 
harmless.  All  they  want  is  to  shake  hands  with 
you  to  show  their  good  will.  See ! "  And  he 
pointed  to  the  little  men  who  stood  by  holding 
out  their  hands  and  grinning  like  all  possessed. 

She  quickly  recovered  her  faculties  and  felt  pro- 
voked with  herself  for  her  lack  of  self-control ;  for 
she  saw  the  sly  nudges  and  heard  the  giggles  and 
coarse  laughs  at  her  expense  which  flew  round  the 
ring  with  contagious  rapidity.  Stepping  to  the 
rope  again,  she  offered  her  hand,  which  each  in 
turn  grasped  and  shook  heartily.  She  even  smiled 
into  their  grinning  faces  as  they  passed  on.  Then 
she  looked  searchingly  into  the  face  of  the  pro- 
fessor; but  the  whiskers  and  goggles  defied  her 
penetration.  Yet  she  felt  that  he  had  recognized 
her.  She  dropped  her  eyes  suddenly,  abashed  at 
her  own  audacity,  and  nearly  collapsed  with  fear ; 
for  there  on  the  rope  rested  his  left  hand,  on  the 
little  finger  of  which  blazed  the  ring  with  the  ser- 
pent's head. 

He  saw  her  start  and  instantly  thrust  his  hand 
into  his  breast  pocket  and  drew  forth  a  large  linen 
handkerchief,  among  whose  folds  the  ring  was 
adroitly  hidden  as  he  bowed  courteously  and 
walked  away  on  the  trail  of  his  charges. 

The  show  was  over,  and  Ruth  felt  herself  borne 
by  the  passing  crowd  out  of  the  cool  shadowy 


THE  MAN  WITH  THE  CANDLE      509 

tent  into  the  glare  and  bustle  of  the  midway. 
But  the  noisy,  vulgar  scenes  had  lost  their  charms. 
She  felt  the  burden  of  her  secret  oppressive.  It 
filled  her  with  fear  and  forebodings.  Again  she 
heard  those  whispered  words  of  Saturday  night, 
half  appeal,  half  injunction: 

"  I  feel  I  can  trust  you ;  don't  disappoint  me !  " 
With  these  words  ringing  through  her  brain,  she 
left  the  grounds  and  wended  her  way  homeward, 
pondering  the  matter  from  all  sides,  and  wonder- 
ing what  she  had  better  do.  She  had  reached  the 
gate  and  was  still  in  a  quandary,  when,  glancing 
casually  down  the  road,  her  eyes  rested  on  a  white 
cottage  nestling  peacefully  behind  a  hedge  of  ce- 
dar a  half  mile  below.  A  happy  thought  took 
possession  of  her  troubled  mind  and  cleared  the 
shadows  from  her  eyes.  She  would  call  on  Lida 
Gray  and  confide  in  her.  Having  come  to  this 
conclusion,  she  hastened  into  the  house  to  remove 
the  dust  and  other  effects  of  her  long  day  in  the 
open  air. 


CHAPTER  XXX 
ANOTHER  SURPRISE 

Ruth  found  dinner  waiting.  Her  father  had 
not  yet  returned ;  but  he  came  in  while  she  was  in 
her  room  dressing  for  dinner.  He  met  her  at  the 
dining-room  door  when  she  came  downstairs,  curi- 
ous to  hear  her  version  as  to  how  it  happened  that 
two  such  seasoned  travellers  as  they  could  have 
lost  each  other  in  so  small  an  area.  Each  tried 
to  explain;  and  each  blamed  the  other  jokingly 
for  the  mishap,  all  of  which  furnished  no  little 
amusement  for  Mrs.  Bent  and  Nellie  during  the 
repast.  She  ate  very  sparingly,  for  her  mind  was 
still  in  a  ferment;  and  in  spite  of  her  apparent 
gaiety  a  nervous  chill  pervaded  her  very  soul. 
Although  it  was  uppermost  in  her  mind,  she  said 
not  a  word  about  her  experience  in  the  tent  of 
the  wild  men  of  Borneo. 

She  was  glad  when  dinner  was  over  and  she 
found  herself  at  liberty  once  more.  While  Nellie 
cleared  the  table  and  Mrs.  Bent  attended  to  other 
household  duties,  Ruth  stood  by  the  window  look- 
ing vaguely  out  at  the  passing  crowds,  with  her 
brows  gathered  up  in  a  thoughtful  little  frown. 

She  was  trying  to  concoct  a  plausible  excuse  to  get 
510 


ANOTHER  SURPRISE  511 

off  alone  and  was  about  giving  up  in  despair  when 
she  heard  her  father  tell  his  wife  that  he  was  go- 
ing to  the  post  office  for  the  mail. 

She  caught  her  breath.  Here  was  her  oppor- 
tunity ;  and  she  was  quick  to  act.  She  stepped 
into  the  hall,  and  when  her  father  appeared  a  few 
moments  later,  she  stood  in  the  doorway  ready  to 
accompany  him.  He  was  pleased  to  have  her  go ; 
and  after  calling  a  good-by  to  Mrs.  Bent,  the  two 
started  off  gaily  together. 

It  was  after  six  o'clock  when  they  passed  the 
white  cottage  standing  so  sedately  behind  its  hedge 
of  green.  Ruth  looked  the  place  over  critically. 
She  admired  the  century  old  elms,  still  proudly 
erect,  with  their  long,  drooping  branches  sweeping 
the  roof.  Her  father  noticed  how  she  scrutinized 
the  house  and  its  surroundings  as  they  passed ; 
and  thinking  he  knew  what  was  in  her  mind,  for 
he  too  recalled  the  romance  connected  with  the 
name  of  the  daughter  of  the  house,  he  said  by  way 
of  breaking  the  silence  which  suddenly  fell  between 
them: 

"  That  is  the  home  of  Lida  Gray,  the  young 
lady  whom  Jethro  spoke  of  the  other  night.  Pic- 
turesque, is  it  not?  " 

"  Yes,  very ;  but  it  is  rather  too  gloomy  for  my 
taste.  It  has  all  the  outward  appearance  of  the 
inward  sorrow  tradition  has  given  it.  One  could 
almost  fancy  that  nature  herself  had  purposely 
laid  the  settings,  before  the  foundation  of  the 
house,  for  a  great  heart  tragedy.  Yews,  aspens, 


513      THE  SINS  OF  THE  FATHERS 

evergreens,  and  over  all  the  elm!  Could  any- 
thing be  more  suggestive?  " 

They  had  left  the  house  a  short  distance  in  the 
rear. 

"  There,  Dad,"  she  said,  stopping  abruptly  and 
changing  her  tone,  "  I  am  going  back,  if  you  will 
not  be  afraid  to  go  the  rest  of  the  way  alone." 
There  was  a  mischievous  twinkle  in  her  eyes. 

He  laughed  and  assured  her  he  would  not.  He 
offered  no  objections  to  her  proposal  to  return ; 
for  he  knew  she  must  be  tired,  and  it  was  still  a 
long  walk  to  the  town.  So  they  parted.  He 
pressed  on  his  way  with  a  brisk,  swinging  gait ; 
while  she  slowly  retraced  her  steps  as  far  as  the 
cottage. 

By  this  time  the  highway  was  a  lively  scene. 
The  people  were  returning  from  the  fair  in  laugh- 
ing, singing,  rollicking  crowds  that  jostled  each 
other  in  their  haste.  The  dust  rose  in  clouds  from 
beneath  the  feet  of  racing  horses  and  whirling 
wheels,  sorely  trying  the  good  nature  of  the  pedes- 
trians. Ruth  quickened  her  steps  to  avoid  the 
confusion  that  seemed  to  increase  with  every  mo- 
ment. 

She  reached  the  gate  and  paused  to  still  the 
beating  of  her  heart,  as  she  suddenly  realized  the 
delicacy  of  her  mission.  The  gate  swung  between 
two  large  granite  posts,  topped  by  an  arch  of 
wrought  iron  of  delicate  workmanship.  Her  vi- 
sion took  in  the  pattern  of  the  arch  ere  she  pushed 


ANOTHER  SURPRISE  513 

open  the  gate,  passed  through,  and  mounted  the 
steps  to  the  little  front  porch.  She  let  the  brass 
knocker  fall  from  her  fingers ;  and  as  she  heard 
the  vibrations  of  its  ring,  her  courage  almost  de- 
serted her  and  she  felt  inclined  to  retreat ;  but 
ere  she  could  put  her  inclinations  to  the  test,  the 
door  opened  and  Mrs.  Gray  herself  stood  on  the 
threshold. 

"  Is  Miss  Gray  at  home  ?  "  asked  Ruth  timidly. 

"She  is.  Will  you  come  in?"  answered  Mrs. 
Gray  cordially. 

Ruth  stepped  in  and  was  ushered  into  a  cosy 
sitting-room  where  a  wood  fire  burned  brightly 
on  an  open  hearth.  She  was  glad  to  get  the 
warmth  from  the  glowing  embers,  for  she  had  not 
yet  been  able  to  shake  off  the  chilly  feeling  which 
had  crept  over  her  in  the  tent  on  the  fair  grounds. 
She  had  hardly  seated  herself  when  she  heard  a 
tripping  step  on  the  stairs  in  the  hall,  and  the 
next  instant  a  young  lady  stood  in  the  doorway. 

"  Miss  Crosby !  "  exclaimed  Ruth  in  tones  of  as- 
tonishment, springing  to  her  feet. 

"  Why,  Miss  Bent !  this  is  a  surprise ! "  cried 
Miss  Crosby,  for  it  was  really  she,  coming  for- 
ward with  extended  hands.  "  How  pleased  I  am 
to  see  you !  Up  for  the  fair  I  suppose !  How 
nice  of  you  to  call  on  me !  But  how  did  you  know 
where  to  find  me?  "  rattled  on  the  delighted  young 
lady  as  she  pressed  both  of  Ruth's  cold  hands. 

"  I  didn't  know  where  to  find  you,"  stammered 


514      THE  SINS  OF  THE  FATHERS 

Ruth  when  she  could  command  her  voice.  "  I 
didn't  know  you  were  here;  I  called  to  see  Lida 
Gray.  Is  she  not  at  home?  " 

"  To  be  sure  she  is ;  I  am  Lida  Gray,  Lida  Gray 
Crosby,"  she  explained,  laughing  lightly  at  the 
puzzled  expression  on  Ruth's  face.  "  I  see  you 
don't  understand,"  she  went  on  after  a  moment's 
pause,  during  which  time  Ruth  stood  gazing  at  her 
in  speechless  bewilderment.  "  Be  seated  and  I  will 
explain,"  and  pushing  Ruth  gently  back  into  the 
chair  from  which  she  had  risen  so  unceremoniously, 
Miss  Crosby  drew  up  a  chair  in  front  of  her  and 
seating  herself,  proceeded.  "  You  see,  my  uncle, 
Charles  Crosby,  is  a  confirmed  old  bachelor.  He 
is  very  rich.  Some  people  call  him  very  eccentric ; 
but  I  call  him  a  dear  old  toady,  because  he  is  so 
fond  of  me  and  toadies  to  my  every  whim  and 
caprice.  From  the  day  of  my  birth  I  have  been 
known  as  Uncle  Crosby's  heir.  This  came  as  a 
matter  of  course,  for  I  was  the  only  child  in  the 
family.  When  I  was  about  fifteen  he  insisted  on 
adopting  me  legally  and  on  my  taking  the  name  of 
Crosby  in  addition  to  my  own.  Everybody  con- 
cerned agreed  to  the  proposition,  for  Crosby  was 
my  mother's  maiden  name,  and  Crosby  mine  be- 
came by  due  process  of  law.  So  that  outside  of 
L.  I  am  known  as  Lida  G.  Crosby;  while  here, 
where  I  was  born  and  brought  up,  I  am  still  Lida 
Gray  to  the  people." 

She  paused  and  waited  for  Ruth  to  speak ;  but 
no  sound  issued  from  those  white,  parched  lips. 


ANOTHER  SURPRISE  515 

She  saw  the  intense  suffering  in  Ruth's  drawn  face, 
and  recalled  the  scene  of  their  last  meeting.  She 
wondered  if  Ruth  was  thinking  of  it;  and  this 
brought  her  to  a  sense  of  her  duty  as  hostess. 

"  Now  tell  me  about  yourself,"  she  said  almost 
gaily,  trying  to  make  her  guest  feel  at  home.  "  I 
am  dying  to  hear  about  Coleville  and  Uncle  Gray 
and  your  grandmother,  and  —  everybody  else. 
But  first  tell  where  you  are  stopping  in  town." 

"  With  my  father,"  answered  Ruth  hoarsely, 
hardly  yet  able  to  realize  the  full  import  of  what 
she  had  heard. 

"Your  father?"  questioned  Miss  Crosby,  be- 
traying her  surprise. 

"  Yes,"  she  replied,  recovering  herself  somewhat ; 
"  my  father  is  your  next  door  neighbor." 

"  What,  Mr.  Bent  who  has  taken  the  Bixby 
house !  "  gasped  Miss  Crosby,  turning  an  ashen 
hue. 

"  The  same,"  Ruth  assured  her  with  returning 
confidence.  "  I  came  Saturday  to  spend  a  few 
weeks  with  him,  and  incidentally  to  be  here  for  the 
fair." 

"How  strange  that  I  should  never  have  thought 
of  connecting  your  name  with  his,"  she  half  mused, 
looking  straight  into  Ruth's  eyes  with  a  puzzled 
air. 

"  It  is  not  any  stranger  than  that  I  should  not 
have  connected  the  name  of  Lida  Gray  with  that 
of  Miss  Crosby,"  returned  Ruth  with  a  wan  little 
smile  and  a  far-away  look  in  her  eyes.  Then  her 


516      THE  SINS  OF  THE  FATHERS 

manner  suddenly  changed.  She  snatched  her 
hands  from  Miss  Crosby's  clasp  as  if  they  had 
been  stung.  Her  lips  curled  in  scorn,  and  her  eyes 
flashed  a  look  of  withering  contempt  on  her  as- 
tonished hostess,  as  she  broke  forth  in  a  strain  of 
bitter  sarcasm.  "  How  should  I  know,  indeed,  or 
even  imagine,  that  the  brilliant  Miss  Crosby,  whom 
all  Coleville  acknowledges  as  the  fiancee  of  Robert 
Cole,  and  the  modest  Lida  Gray,  whom  all  L.  re- 
gards as  the  fiancee  of  Norman  Bixby,  was  one 
and  the  same  person  !  " 

For  a  moment  Miss  Crosby  seemed  as  one 
stunned.  The  color  went  and  came  in  her  cheeks 
and  a  spasm  of  pain  flitted  across  her  face.  After 
a  brief  pause,  she  raised  her  eyes  to  her  visitor's 
face  with  a  vague,  uncertain  expression,  half  ques- 
tion, half  doubt,  in  their  clear  violet  depths,  and 
said  slowly, 

"  You  do  not  mean  to  say  that  gossip  has  cou- 
pled my  name  with  Mr.  Cole's  in  Coleville  ?  " 

"  As  if  you  didn't  know !  "  sneered  Ruth,  her 
whole  frame  quivering  in  protest  against  the  du- 
plicity of  the  beautiful  woman  before  her.  That 
the  report  might  not  be  true  she  did  not  stop  to 
reason.  She  only  knew  that  two  years  ago  she 
had  made  her  sacrifice  and  resigned  her  love  to  the 
keeping  of  this  woman. 

"  How  ridiculous ! "  exclaimed  Miss  Crosby  a 
little  impatiently,  meeting  the  scornful  glare  of 
those  burning  eyes  with  a  look  of  unflinching 
haughtiness.  Then  as  the  truth  suddenly  dawned 


ANOTHER  SURPRISE  517 

upon  her,  a  wave  of  pity  swept  across  her  beautiful 
face. 

Ruth  had  been  studying  Miss  Crosby,  and  had 
caught  the  reflection  in  her  face.  Her  heart  gave 
a  throb  of  delight. 

"  Then  it  is  not  true?  "  she  asked,  leaning  for- 
ward eagerly,  almost  greedily,  to  catch  her  answer. 

"  No,  it  is  not  true !  "  replied  Miss  Crosby,  in 
quiet,  decisive  tones.  "  I  cannot  conceive  how  such 
a  rumor  could  have  been  set  afloat.  So  far  is  it 
from  being  true  that  I  cannot  even  claim  Mr. 
Cole  as  a  personal  friend.  You,  of  course,  know 
the  intimacy  which  had  existed  between  my  uncle, 
Judge  Gray,  and  the  elder  Mr.  Cole  for  years. 
The  two  families,  when  together,  seemed  like  one 
unbroken  circle;  and  it  seemed  perfectly  natural 
that  I  should  be  admitted  to  the  inner  shrine  when- 
ever I  visited  Coleville.  I  found  the  association 
delightfully  pleasant,  for  they  were  a  charming 
family.  I  suppose  there  have  been  changes  since 
the  terrible  death  of  the  elder  Mr.  Cole.  You 
know  I  have  not  been  there  since.  Bell  and  I  cor- 
responded for  some  time  while  I  was  in  Europe, 
but  I  have  not  heard  from  her  for  over  a  year.  Of 
course  I  hear  occasionally  from  Aunt  Gray ;  but 
her  letters  are  so  unsatisfactory,  so  far  as  outside 
news  goes,  that  I  have  been  kept  totally  in  the  dark 
as  to  the  happenings  in  Coleville  during  the  last 
year.  I  was  very  fond  of  Bell ;  she  was  perfectly 
charming  when  she  chose  to  be.  As  for  Robert, 
while  I  found  him  very  nice  and  gentlemanly,  he 


518      THE  SINS  OF  THE  FATHERS 

was  too  dreamy  and  indolent.  He  always  struck 
me  as  a  great  overgrown  kid ;  one  who  never  dared 
to  sneeze  until  he  had  the  permission  of  pa  or  ma 
or  Bell.  Me  engaged  to  Robert  Cole,  forsooth !  " 
And  she  tossed  her  head  disdainfully  in  the  air. 

"  You  have  judged  him  wrongly.  You  did  not 
understand  him,  and  therefore  estimated  his  char- 
acter on  a  false  basis,"  interposed  Ruth  stiffly. 
It  was  evident  she  was  piqued  at  Miss  Crosby's 
words,  as  that  astute  young  lady  intended  she 
should  be. 

"  Character !  "  repeated  Miss  Crosby  ironically, 
with  a  little  Frenchy  shrug  of  her  shapely  shoul- 
ders, following  up  her  advantage.  "  I  was  not 
aware  he  had  any  character.  So  far  as  I  saw,  he 
was  too  listless  even  to  think  for  himself.  His  con- 
versation, when  he  deigned  to  talk  at  all,  was  a 
mere  echo  either  of  Bell's  or  his  mother's  ideas." 

"  Yes,"  admitted  Ruth,  "  that  was  the  way  he 
impressed  most  people  in  those  days.  But  all  that 
is  changed.  The  death  of  his  father  seemed  to 
rouse  him  to  action ;  and  the  result  has  surprised 
his  most  intimate  friends.  Even  Bell  and  his 
mother,  who  were  the  most  skeptical  as  to  his  abili- 
ties, were  very  soon  forced  to  admit  that  he  had 
not  only  a  strong  character,  but  that  he  had  also 
keen  business  instincts  which  served  him  well  in 
his  hour  of  trial.  So  well  has  he  managed  the  vast 
interests  left  by  his  father  that  he  has  already 
gained  the  confidence  of  the  shrewdest  business  men 
of  the  state.  But  I  did  not  come  to  talk  of  Mr. 


ANOTHER  SURPRISE  519 

Cole  and  his  affairs,"  she  said,  breaking  off 
abruptly.  "  I  came  on  quite  a  different  errand ; 
and  time  is  passing." 

"  True,  and  you  came  to  see  Lida  Gray,  not 
Miss  Crosby,"  she  said  slowly,  the  color  receding 
from  her  cheeks  as  if  she  dreaded  what  was  com- 
ing. 

But  Ruth  seemed  in  no  hurry  to  proceed.  A 
throb  of  fierce  joy  had  sent  the  warm  blood  leaping 
wildly  through  her  veins  as  her  perturbed  mind 
grasped  the  thought  that,  after  all,  Robert  Cole 
was  not  even  remotely  interested  in  Miss  Crosby 
nor  she  in  him.  But  the  next  instant  it  went  cur- 
dling back  through  those  same  veins  and  she  sat 
pale  and  rigid  as  the  thought  forged  its  way 
through  her  brain  of  how  deeply  she  and  her 
grandmother  had  wronged  him. 

Miss  Crosby  mistook  her  emotion  as  in  some  way 
pertaining  to  herself  and  the  matter  in  hand.  She 
waited  patiently  for  Ruth  to  speak.  But  Ruth 
appeared  to  be  so  deeply  absorbed  in  her  own 
thoughts  that  Miss  Crosby  grew  uneasy;  and  at 
last,  leaning  eagerly  forward,  she  almost  de- 
manded, 

"  What  is  it  ?     What  have  you  heard  or  seen  ?  " 

This  brought  Ruth  back  to  the  present  with  a 
start. 

"  I  beg  your  pardon,  Miss  Crosby ;  I  really 
lost  myself,"  she  said  humbly.  "  May  I  shut  the 
door?"  she  asked  abruptly;  and  without  waiting 
for  permission,  she  rose,  and  stepping  to  the  door, 


520      THE  SINS  OF  THE  FATHERS 

drew  it  to  and  turned  the  key.  "  I  trust  you  will 
pardon  me,  Miss  Crosby,"  she  began  in  faltering 
tones  when  she  had  returned  to  her  seat,  "  for  my 
seeming  intrusion  into  your  private  affairs ;  and 
believe  me  when  I  say  it  was  not  idle  curiosity  that 
brought  me  here.  I  have  heard  your  sad  story 
and  — " 

"  Who  has  dared  to  meddle  with  my  private  af- 
fairs !  "  she  broke  in  haughtily.  There  was  also  a 
touch  of  resentment  in  her  tone.  "  Can  I  never 
come  home  without  being  reminded  of  the  past !  " 

"  I  would  not  call  it  by  so  harsh  a  name  as  *  med- 
dling,' Miss  Crosby,"  mildly  expostulated  Ruth  in 
her  own  defense,  now  fully  aware  of  the  dangerous 
ground  on  which  she  was  treading.  "  He  simply 
related  the  history  of  the  house  to  my  father." 

"  He  ?     Who  ?  "     Her  voice  was  cold  and  steely. 

"  Father  called  him  Jed  or  Jethro.  I  can't  re- 
call his  surname." 

"  Jethro  Prowty  ?  "  she  asked  wistfully. 

"  Yes,  that  was  the  name ;  and  he  was  the  queer- 
est looking  little  man  I  ever  saw,"  she  replied  with 
a  smile. 

Miss  Crosby  appeared  greatly  agitated  and  sat 
clasping  and  unclasping  her  hands  nervously  in 
her  lap.  "  When  did  you  see  him  ?  "  she  asked 
when  she  could  command  her  voice  sufficiently  to 
speak. 

"  Saturday  night." 

"Where?"  Her  question  was  almost  a  de- 
mand. 


ANOTHER  SURPRISE  521 

"  Over  at  the  house,"  answered  Ruth  slowly, 
studying  her  companion's  face  and  manner  under 
the  glow  of  the  flame  which  shot  up  now  and  again 
from  the  logs  on  the  hearth.  She  could  hardly 
believe  that  this  nervous,  agitated,  ashen-faced 
woman  was  the  same  handsome,  dashing,  vi- 
vacious, self-poised  girl  who,  only  two  short  sum- 
mers ago,  had  set  all  Coleville  agog  with  specula- 
tions. In  proportion  as  Miss  Crosby  had  grown 
excited  and  disturbed,  Ruth  had  become  calm  and 
collected,  at  least  outwardly.  She  forgot  her  own 
wretchedness  in  her  sympathy  for  the  woman  be- 
fore her,  for  she  saw  in  the  quivering  lips  and 
haunting  eyes  how  intensely  this  sensitive  being 
was  suffering. 

"  If  you  will  calm  yourself,  Miss  Crosby,"  she 
said  after  a  moment's  pause,  "  I  will  tell  you  all  I 
know.  Perhaps  it  will  help  you  in  some  way." 

"  Yes,  yes,  I  will  be  calm !  "  she  stammered ;  but 
her  manner  was  far  from  assuring. 

Ruth  took  the  cold,  limp  hand  of  her  hostess  and 
began  her  story  at  the  point  of  Jethro's  appear- 
ance in  front  of  the  house,  and  then  went  on  and 
told  each  subsequent  event  in  its  order,  and  ended 
up  by  saying: 

"  I  know  this  man  is  one  of  the  brothers ;  but 
which  one?  This  is  the  question  I  want  to  settle 
in  my  mind.  If  he  visits  the  house  again,  he  will 
be  trapped  as  sure  as  fate;  for  my  father  is  not 
the  man  to  stand  any  ghostly  nonsense.  I  fear  he 
is  suspicious  that  I  did  not  tell  the  truth  when  I 


522      THE  SINS  OF  THE  FATHERS 

said  I  could  not  remember  any  circumstance  con- 
nected with  the  opening  of  that  rear  door,  or  with 
my  fall  down  the  stairs.  But  I  did  tell  the  truth.  I 
could  recall  nothing  of  what  happened  in  my  room 
until  my  memory  was  roused  by  the  voice  and  sight 
of  the  man  himself  in  the  tent  this  afternoon. 
And  now  that  I  have  recalled  everything  distinctly, 
I  dread  having  my  father  question  me  again  on 
the  subject.  And  I  am  positive  he  will  do  it  sooner 
or  later." 

"  It  is  Norman !  But  you  will  not  betray  him ; 
for  my  sake,  you  will  not !  "  gasped  Miss  Crosby, 
clasping  Ruth's  hands  and  throwing  herself  on  her 
knees  at  her  feet. 

"  No,  I  will  not  betray  him ;  I  promise  you 
this !  "  Ruth  hastened  to  assure  her  as  she  raised 
her  from  the  floor.  "  But  I  fear  he  will  betray 
himself  by  his  foolishness  in  wearing  that  ring." 

*'  I  have  told  him  so ;  but  he  persists  in  the 
folly." 

"  Then  you  have  seen  him  ?  "  half  questioned 
Ruth. 

"  Yes,  many  times,"  she  replied  sadly. 

"  Did  you  know  he  was  here  to-day  ?  "  asked 
Ruth. 

"  No ;  and  I  cannot  understand  why  he  should 
come.  It  is  foolhardy !  "  And  a  convulsive  shud- 
der shot  through  her  frame. 

"Are  you  sure  this  is  Norman?"  asked  Ruth 
after  a  moment's  pause,  looking  doubtfully  into 
Miss  Crosby's  face. 


ANOTHER  SURPRISE  523 

"  There  is  not  the  slightest  doubt  of  its  being 
he !  "  she  answered  quickly.  "  Jeth  Prowty  would 
not  play  his  old  fiddle  for  the  other." 

"  Then  you  think  the  playing  was  a  signal  ?  " 

"  Most  assuredly,"  she  replied  thoughtfully. 
"  Norman  must  have  wanted  something  from  one 
of  those  secret  drawers  in  the  library  and  made  it 
up  with  Jeth  to  entertain  the  family  downstairs 
while  he  entered  the  house  by  a  private  entrance 
and  got  what  he  wanted.  Norman  must  have 
slipped  up  on  his  instructions  and  the  alarm  came 
too  soon  or  he  never  would  have  returned  at  mid- 
night." 

"  Then  Jeth  is  not  the  simpleton  he  would  have 
people  believe  him  to  be?  "  remarked  Ruth  with  a 
smile. 

"  Not  by  a  long  way  !  He  has  wit  and  to  spare, 
and  has  proved  it  on  many  occasions  during  the 
past  two  years,"  replied  Miss  Crosby  earnestly. 

"  Then  I  shall  leave  the  matter  in  your  hands. 
I  think  you  and  Jethro  can  manage  it  between 
you.  Only  you  must  warn  Mr.  Bixby  not  to  visit 
the  house  again  while  Mr.  Bent  lives  there." 
She  rose.  "  I  must  go  now  or  the  folks  will  be 
worried  and  wondering  what  has  become  of  me." 

Miss  Crosby  rose,  and  realizing  for  the  first 
time  that  darkness  had  set  in,  rang  for  lights,  in- 
sisting at  the  same  time  that  she  be  allowed  to 
accompany  Ruth  home.  Ruth  made  no  objection 
to  the  latter  proposal,  for  she  knew  from  the 
sounds  which  came  from  without  that  the  road 


524.      THE  SINS  OF  THE  FATHERS 

was  still  lined  with  stragglers  returning  from  the 
fair. 

Miss  Crosby  called  her  mother,  for  she  wished 
Ruth  to  meet  her  before  she  left.  Ruth  was  a  lit- 
tle annoyed  at  this  delay,  for  she  was  now  anx- 
ious to  reach  home  so  that  she  might  write  to  her 
grandmother  and  tell  her  about  Miss  Crosby. 
There  was  no  help  for  it,  though,  without  seem- 
ing rude,  so  she  made  the  best  of  it.  She  found 
Mrs.  Gray  a  charming  little  body,  who  was  de- 
lighted to  meet  so  near  a  neighbor  of  her  brother- 
in-law,  Judge  Gray.  Lida  left  them  together 
while  she  went  up  to  her  room  for  her  wrap.  She 
was  gone  but  a  few  moments  when  she  returned, 
enveloped  in  a  long  dark  circular  cape.  She  ap- 
peared a  little  nervous  and  anxious  to  depart  as 
she  led  the  way  to  the  side  door,  followed  by  her 
mother  and  Ruth.  At  the  door,  Ruth  bade  Mrs. 
Gray  good-night,  promising  to  call  again  at  an 
early  date.  Then  she  passed  out  with  Lida. 

There  was  a  by-path  leading  between  the  two 
estates ;  a  path,  every  inch  of  which  was  familiar 
ground  to  Lida  Gray.  It  led  through  the  mead- 
ows, skirting  the  low  stone  wall  that  separated 
the  pasture  lands,  and  had  been  worn  and  kept 
hard  and  smooth  by  the  constant  patter  of  little 
feet  traveling  to  and  fro  between  the  two  home- 
steads away  back  in  those  mystical  days  of  child- 
hood which  now  seemed  to  her  like  a  shadowy 
dream. 

Because  of  the  many  belated  rollickers  on  the 


ANOTHER  SURPRISE  525 

highway,  Lida  chose  to  conduct  her  caller  home 
by  this  long  unfrequented  path;  so  she  led  her  to 
the  lower  end  of  the  garden  and  through  a  small 
wicker  gate  into  the  meadow.  But  Lida  found 
the  way  so  overgrown  with  grasses  and  bushes  and 
brambles  of  all  kinds  that  she  had  difficulty  in 
finding  any  trace  of  the  old  path.  This,  how- 
ever, did  not  deter  her  from  pushing  on.  Telling 
Ruth  to  keep  close  to  her,  she  picked  her  way 
over  the  uneven  ground  until  she  came  to  the  first 
cross-wall,  where  she  stopped  short  with  an  ex- 
clamation of  annoyance.  The  breach  which  the 
Bixby  boys  had  made  so  many  years  before  to 
facilitate  her  coming  and  going,  and  which  she 
supposed  still  existed,  was  closed.  It  had  been 
closed  these  many  years.  She  was  about  to  re- 
trace her  steps  when  Ruth  caught  her  arm  in  a 
vise-like  grip. 

"  Look !  "  whispered  Ruth,  pointing  to  the  top 
of  the  wall  where,  silhouetted  against  the  clear 
blue  of  the  sky,  loomed  the  quaint  figure  of  Jethro 
Prowty  a-straddle  of  the  wall,  with  his  fiddle 
tucked  under  his  chin  and  the  bow  resting  on  the 
strings  ready  for  action. 

As  Lida  raised  her  eyes,  he  drew  the  bow  across 
the  strings  and  scraped  out  one  bar  of  "  Gentle 
Annie."  Dashing  forward,  she  caught  his  dan- 
gling foot  and  shook  it  with  a  will.  He  started 
and  threw  up  his  arms  high  over  his  head,  with  his 
fiddle  in  one  hand  and  the  bow  in  the  other,  as  if 
he  must  save  his  precious  instrument  at  all  haz- 


526      THE  SINS  OF  THE  FATHERS 

ards  to  his  neck.  For  a  second  he  looked  as  if  he 
would  topple  over  on  her;  but  he  quickly  regained 
his  equilibrium  and  peered  down  at  her  sideways 
with  that  peculiar  squint  which  sent  his  face 
askew,  and  blurted  out. 

"  Gosh,  Miss  Lida,  you  came  nigh  scarin'  me 
outer  a  year's  growth.  How'dj  yer  know  I  was 
here  ?  I  — "  He  broke  off  abruptly,  for  at  that 
instant  he  caught  sight  of  Ruth  standing  in  the 
shadow  of  the  wall.  The  break  was  so  short, 
however,  as  to  be  hardly  perceptible,  when  he  took 
up  the  thread  of  his  talk  apparently  just  where 
he  left  off.  "  I  was  jest  agoin'  ter  serenade  the 
moon.  Ever  see  anything  shine  es  she  does  ter- 
night?  It's  a  good  sign,  Miss  Lida!  It's  a  good 
sign!" 

"  There  is  nothing  to  fear,  Jethro,"  Lida  as- 
sured him.  "  I  was  leading  Miss  Bent  the  short- 
est way  home;  but  the  wall  has  been  built  up  and 
we  cannot  get  through,  so  we  shall  be  obliged  to 
go  back  and  round  by  the  road." 

Jethro  said  nothing;  but  the  next  instant,  with 
the  agility  of  a  cat,  he  had  scrambled  over  the 
wall  and  lighted  on  his  feet  on  the  ground  in  front 
of  her. 

"  This  way,  Miss  Lida,"  and  he  ambled  along  in 
the  shadow  of  the  wall  a  short  distance  to  where 
a  set  of  bars  of  which  she  was  ignorant  had  only 
recently  been  set  in  the  wall.  He  lowered  the  bars 
and  the  three  passed  over  into  an  orchard  of 
gnarled  apple-trees. 


ANOTHER  SURPRISE  527 

The  moon  was  at  its  full  and  rolling  placidly  on 
its  westward  course,  flooding  the  earth  with  a  soft 
silvery  light.  The  sky  was  clear  and  thickly 
studded  with  stars  that  blinked  through  the 
branches  of  the  apple-tree  with  weird  effect. 
Some  distance  ahead,  Ruth  could  see  the  light  in 
the  sitting-room,  where  she  knew  her  father  must 
be  anxiously  waiting  her  return. 

Lida  had  linked  her  arm  in  Ruth's  as  they 
stepped  over  the  bars.  Ruth  felt  the  hand  trem- 
ble and  surmised  what  was  coming.  Neither 
spoke  as  the  three  moved  swiftly  onward  with 
Jethro  in  the  lead.  They  had  almost  reached  the 
end  of  the  orchard  where  Ruth  knew  only  a  nar- 
row strip  of  open  meadow  intervened  between  the 
orchard  and  the  Bixby  grounds,  when  Jethro 
stopped  and  gave  a  low  pipe  like  that  of  a  young 
frog;  and  almost  instantly  the  figure  of  a  man 
emerged  from  the  sheltering  trunk  of  a  large  tree 
and  stepped  towards  them. 

With  a  low  cry,  almost  a  moan,  Lida  glided  for- 
ward into  a  pair  of  outstretched  arms  and  was 
folded  in  a  passionate  embrace. 

Jethro  sidled  on  past  the  lovers,  as  if  he  had 
seen  nothing,  had  heard  nothing,  and  had  neither 
part  nor  interest  in  the  lives  and  loves  of  these 
two,  for  whom  his  peculiar  genius  had  contrived 
so  many  chance  meetings  during  the  past  two 
years.  He  halted  on  the  verge  of  the  open 
meadow,  keeping  well  within  the  shadows  of  the 
orchard. 


528      THE  SINS  OF  THE  FATHERS 

Taking  her  cue  from  Jethro,  Ruth,  too,  was 
about  to  pass  on,  when  the  man  raised  his  head. 
Their  eyes  met.  She  staggered  and  would  have 
fallen  had  she  not  brought  up  against  the  trunk 
of  a  tree. 

"  Dr.  Craig !  "  she  gasped. 

There  was  a  puzzled  light  in  the  man's  eyes  as 
he  gazed  at  her,  which  seemed  to  be  a  mixture  of 
love,  fear,  pain,  and  sorrow.  But  he  did  not 
speak.  And  she,  glad  to  escape,  stumbled  on  into 
the  open,  and  hastened  across  to  the  house  with 
memories  of  the  past  summer  surging  through  her 
harassed  brain.  As  she  reeled  across  the  lawn  to 
the  side  door,  her  father  came  up  the  path  from 
the  gate  and  met  her. 

"  Why,  Ruth,  where  have  you  been  ?  "  he  asked 
in  a  testy  voice.  "  We  have  been  looking  for  you 
everywhere  and  worrying  about  you.  Your 
grandmother  has  sent  a  telegram  for  you  to  return 
immediately." 

They  had  now  entered  the  sitting-room,  where 
Mrs.  Bent  was  waiting.  Ruth  turned  a  very  white 
face  upon  her  father  as  she  asked  in  trembling 
tones, 

"  Is  Grandma  sick?  " 

"  No,"  he  replied  sadly,  "  but  Robert  Cole  has 
been  shot ;  and  he  wants  to  see  you." 

She  staggered  and  caught  a  chair  for  support; 
but  she  did  not  faint.  "  What  time  does  the  next 
train  leave?  "  she  asked  in  a  fairly  steady  voice. 

"  Ten  o'clock,  and  you  will  reach  Coleville  at 


ANOTHER  SURPRISE  529 

6 :30  to-morrow  morning.  I  telegraphed  that  you 
would  arrive  on  that  train,"  he  answered.  "  It  is 
nearly  nine  now,  and  you  will  have  no  time  to  lose 
if  you  want  to  catch  that  train ;  so  hustle  along !  " 


CHAPTER  XXXI 
RUTH'S  RETURN 

Ruth  had  passed  out  of  the  orchard  and  got  be- 
yond hearing  ere  Lida  recovered  from  her  thrill  of 
joy  and  raised  her  head.  A  blush  of  shame  suf- 
fused her  cheeks  as  she  looked  round  and  found 
that  Ruth  had  gone. 

"Where  does  that  young  lady  come  from?" 
eagerly  asked  Norman  Bixby  as  his  eyes  followed 
the  flitting  form  of  Ruth  across  the  meadow  in  the 
moonlight. 

"  She  came  from  Coleville,  where  my  Uncle  Gray 
lives,"  she  answered.  "  Why  do  you  ask?  " 

"  Did  you  not  hear  her  exclamation  when  I 
looked  at  her?  " 

"  No." 

"  It  was  *  Dr.  Craig ! '  Craig,  you  know,  was 
my  grandmother's  maiden  name;  and  it  was  also 
Don's  middle  name.  I  shall  take  the  next  train 
for  Coleville,"  he  said  decisively ;  and  placing  his 
arms  about  her,  he  led  her  towards  the  bars. 

When  the  train  drew  up  at  the  L.  station  at 
ten  o'clock,  Mr.  Bent  kissed  Ruth  and  handed  her 
in,  placing  her  in  charge  of  the  porter.  They 

had  reached  the  depot  barely  in  time  for  Mr.  Bent 
530 


RUTH'S  RETURN  531 

to  purchase  her  ticket  and  get  her  trunk  checked, 
and  in  the  hurry  of  the  moments  at  their  disposal, 
neither  of  them  saw  Jethro  as  he  slunk  by  in  the 
shadows  and  boarded  the  foremost  car,  nor  yet  did 
they  see  the  green-goggled,  long-whiskered  gentle- 
man who  swung  himself  up  on  the  platform  of  the 
rear  car  as  the  train  was  pulling  out  of  the  station. 

Ruth  arrived  in  Coleville  on  schedule  time  and 
found  her  grandmother  at  the  station  waiting  her 
arrival,  with  Joe  and  the  carryall  in  the  back- 
ground. Mrs.  Cole  had  also  sent  over  her  car- 
riage with  instructions  to  bring  Ruth  immediately 
to  Oakwood,  a  command  which  Grandma  Bent 
dared  not  disregard,  for  it  argued  ill  for  Robert's 
present  condition. 

On  the  drive  to  the  house  Mrs.  Bent  told  Ruth 
about  the  trouble  at  the  works  which  had  culmi- 
nated in  the  shooting  of  Robert  and  the  suicide  of 
Dick  Stanton.  She  told  her  of  Dick's  confession 
to  the  shooting  of  Richard  Cole ;  and  of  how 
happy  they  all  were  to  have  Frank  vindicated  be- 
fore the  world.  Then  she  began  to  tell  her  of  her 
call  on  Mrs.  Cole  and  Robert  the  day  before. 
This  took  up  so  much  of  the  time  that  Ruth  had 
no  opportunity  to  tell  her  grandmother  anything 
concerning  herself,  for  the  carriage  drew  up  at  the 
side  door  of  the  Cole  mansion  before  Mrs.  Bent 
had  quite  finished  her  story. 

Ruth  alighted  and  was  met  at  the  door  by  Mrs. 
Cole  and  folded  in  a  motherly  embrace.  There 
was  a  mingling  of  tears  and  kisses  as  Ruth  re- 


5S2      THE  SINS  OF  THE  FATHERS 

sponded  to  the  cordial  welcome  accorded  her  by 
Robert's  mother.  Mrs.  Cole  herself  removed  the 
travel-stained  garments  and  brushed  the  stray 
strands  of  hair  back  from  the  tired-looking  face, 
and  then  led  her  up  stairs  to  Robert's  room. 

Dr.  St.  John  advanced  to  meet  them  as  they 
crossed  the  threshold,  and  taking  Ruth's  cold 
hands  and  pressing  them  warmly,  he  waved  Mrs. 
Cole  back  with  a  warning  gesture. 

"  Just  three  minutes  and  no  more,"  he  cautioned 
Ruth  in  a  whisper  as  he  allowed  her  to  pass. 
Then  he  took  Mrs.  Cole  by  the  arm,  and  leading 
her  from  the  room,  headed  her  for  the  stairway. 

Let  us  pass  over  the  tender  meeting  of  those 
long  tried  and  true  lovers  as  too  sacred  for  pro- 
fane eyes  or  ears.  Exactly  at  the  expiration  of 
the  allotted  three  minutes,  Dr.  St.  John  gave  a 
slight  "  Hem  "  as  he  entered  the  room,  to  warn 
the  lovers  of  his  presence.  Ruth  knew  the  sig- 
nal, and  bending  over  she  pressed  one  more  kiss 
on  Robert's  fevered  brow  ere  she  rose  to  leave  him. 
Realizing  that  his  life  hung  by  a  slender  thread, 
she  did  her  best  to  control  her  grief  while  at  his 
bedside;  but  now,  almost  blinded  with  tears,  she 
made  her  way  to  the  door  and  passed  out  into  the 
hall. 

Just  outside  the  door  she  paused  to  dry  her  eyes 
and  to  crush  back  the  sobs  that  rose  persistently 
in  her  throat.  Having  dried  her  tears  and  in  a 
measure  mastered  her  feelings,  she  raised  her  head 
and  was  about  to  move  forward  when  her  steps 


RUTH'S  RETURN  533 

were  arrested  by  what  appeared  to  be  a  spectre 
in  her  path.  For  there  before  her,  at  a  small  table 
conveniently  near  the  door  sat  Dr.  Craig.  On 
the  table  were  set  out  in  an  orderly  manner,  bot- 
tles of  various  sizes  and  colors,  glasses,  rolls  of 
bandages,  and  cases  of  surgical  instruments.  He 
was  apparently  engaged  in  selecting  the  necessary 
lotions,  bandages,  and  instruments  for  the  dressing 
of  Robert's  wounds  and  arranging  them  in  order 
on  a  large  silver  tray.  He  did  not  so  much  as 
raise  his  eyes  or  appear  to  be  conscious  of  her 
presence. 

She  stood,  bound  by  a  strange  fascination. 
Her  brain  fairly  reeled  with  the  rush  of  memories 
which  crowded  confusedly  across  her  vision.  Only 
last  night  she  had  seen  this  man  or  his  double  in 
a  remote  New  Hampshire  town.  Had  he  followed 
her  there  and  back?  As  the  question  shaped  it- 
self in  her  mind,  he  raised  his  left  hand  and  drew 
it  across  his  forehead  with  a  gesture  of  weariness. 
She  caught  her  breath  in  a  little  painful  gasp  as 
his  hand  swept  upward  and  through  a  streak  of 
sunlight  which  had  forced  its  way  through  the 
crevices  of  the  partly-closed  blinds  of  the  balcony 
windows  and  had  fallen  aslant  the  table  at  which 
he  sat,  for  a  trail  of  prismic  colors  followed  the 
movement  of  his  hand.  She  stood  as  if  rooted  to 
the  spot. 

At  last  he  raised  his  head  languidly.  The  spell 
was  broken.  Like  a  flash  the  links  in  the  chain 
were  riveted.  With  one  stride  she  reached  his 


534      THE  SINS  OF  THE  FATHERS 

side,  and  catching  up  his  hand,  which  he  had 
dropped  on  the  table  after  drawing  it  across  his 
forehead,  she  held  it  in  the  sunlight  for  an  instant, 
then  flung  it  from  her  with  a  gesture  of  scorn. 

"  Don  Bixby !  "  she  aspirated,  almost  hissed, 
with  a  look  of  contempt. 

He  rose  slowly  to  his  full  height  and  smiled  sadly 
into  her  face. 

"  And  thou  too,  Brutus ! "  he  quoted  signifi- 
cantly, with  a  sorrowful  shake  of  his  head. 

Instantly  she  regretted  her  hasty  speech  and 
act.  For  she  suddenly  remembered  that  whatever 
he  had  been,  or  whatever  he  had  done  before  he 
came  to  Coleville,  his  conduct  here  had  been  ex- 
emplary ;  and  her  better  judgment  told  her  she 
had  no  right  to  condemn  him  too  hastily.  He 
must  have  divined  her  thoughts,  for  stretching 
out  his  hand  into  the  sunlight  he  said  in  rather  a 
pensive  voice: 

"  May  I  ask  what  you  know  about  this  ring, 
Miss  Bent?  You  surely  have  never  seen  it  before, 
for  until  this  morning  I  have  never  worn  it  since 
I  came  to  Coleville." 

"  No,  I  never  saw  that  before,  but  I  have  seen 
the  mate  to  it  on  your  brother's  finger,"  she  re- 
plied, eyeing  him  closely.  There  was  a  tinge  of 
scorn  in  her  voice  which,  try  as  she  would,  she 
could  not  conceal. 

He  nodded  his  head  in  acquiescence  and  waited 
a  moment  as  if  for  her  to  proceed.  When  she  did 
not,  he  asked  calmly, 


RUTH'S  RETURN  535 

"Where?" 

"  In  the  town  of  L.,  from  which  place  I  have 
just  returned." 

He  elevated  his  brows,  but  did  not  speak. 

"  Do  you  know,"  she  demanded  in  scathing 
tones  of  reproach,  "  that  your  brother  stands  ac- 
cused of  murdering  you  and  throwing  your  body 
into  the  lake;  and  that  he  has  been  searching  the 
world  over  for  you  so  that  you  might  clear  up 
the  mystery  surrounding  the  torso  found  in 
the  lake,  which  you  evidently  know  something 
about?  " 

"What's  that?  "  broke  in  the  voice  of  Dr.  St. 
John,  who  had  come  out  to  see  what  was  keeping 
his  assistant  so  long  in  the  hall  and  who  had  heard 
every  word  of  her  stinging  question. 

Ruth  faced  the  old  doctor  and  taking  his  trem- 
bling hand  in  hers  patted  it  gently.  She  knew 
how  he  loved  this  young  reprobate  and  hesitated 
to  give  him  pain. 

"  Speak ! "  he  commanded  after  a  short  silence 
in  which  only  the  labored  breathing  of  all  present 
could  be  heard. 

"  I  am  sorry  to  cause  you  pain,  Doctor,"  she 
began,  with  evidence  of  distress  in  her  voice,  "  but 
the  truth  must  come  out  sooner  or  later.  This 
man's  name,"  and  she  pointed  contemptuously  at 
Dr.  Craig,  "  is  not  Craig  at  all.  His  name  is  Don 
Bixby.  He  has  a  twin  brother,  Norman  Bixby, 
who  was  indicted  nearly  two  years  ago  for  the 
supposed  murder  of  this  same  Don,  and  who  might 


536      THE  SINS  OF  THE  FATHERS 

have  been  hanged  for  all  he  cared.  I  saw  his 
brother  last  night." 

"  Who  are  you  ?  "  sternly  demanded  the  old  doc- 
tor, facing  his  protege  with  shaking  limbs,  as  if 
suddenly  stricken  with  the  palsy. 

"  John  Arthur  Craig  Bixby,  nick-named  '  Don 
Bixby  '  for  short,"  he  replied  in  clear  tones. 

"  Then  you  are  not  Norman?  " 

"  No,  I  am  Don,  the  renegade."  And  his  head 
sank  to  his  breast. 

"  And  you  saw  Norman  last  night?  "  questioned 
the  old  doctor,  turning  to  Ruth. 

"  Yes." 

"  Alive?  "     As  if  he  could  not  trust  his  ears. 

"  Alive."  And  she  nodded  her  head  in  empha- 
sis. 

"And  well?" 

"  Yes."  She  smiled  at  his  very  earnestness  in 
spite  of  herself. 

"Thank  God!"  he  ejaculated  fervently;  and 
tottering  forward,  he  threw  his  arms  affectionately 
around  his  young  friend  and  sobbed  aloud.  His 
strength  had  been  sorely  taxed  during  the  last 
three  days,  and  his  collapse  at  this  time  was  not 
to  be  wondered  at  in  view  of  the  present  state  of 
his  body  and  mind. 

Don,  for  we  shall  henceforth  call  him  this,  was 
visibly  touched  by  this  show  of  affection,  and  kiss- 
ing the  old  doctor  caressingly  on  the  cheek,  he 
said. 

"  You  have  been  my  salvation,  Doctor,  and  if  I 


RUTH'S  RETURN  537 

come  out  of  this  scrape  with  a  whole  carcass,  God 
helping  me,  I  shall  never  get  into  another!  If  I 
am  acquitted  of  this  charge,  you  will  never  again 
have  any  reason  to  be  ashamed  of  me !  " 

"  Acquitted ! "  shouted  the  doctor,  raising  his 
head  with  a  triumphant  look  on  his  face.  "  Why, 
you  are  acquitted  now,  lad!  You  see,  I  have 
been  under  the  impression  all  the  time  that  you 
were  Norman,  and  that  Norman  had  murdered 
Don.  Your  arrest  was  based  on  this  supposition. 
But  you  are  Don,  and  you  have  not  been  mur- 
dered ;  Norman  is  alive  and  everything  is  coming 
out  all  right !  "  Then  turning  to  Ruth,  he  asked, 
"  Do  you  know  where  Norman  is?  " 

"  Yes,"  she  replied  with  a  puzzled  air,  for  she 
had  not  yet  heard  of  the  arrest  and  therefore 
failed  to  grasp  the  full  meaning  of  the  old  doc- 
tor's words. 

"  Can  you  communicate  with  him  and  get  him 
to  come  here  at  once  ?  " 

"  I  think  so." 

"  Then  come  right  away  and  do  so !  "  He  took 
her  by  the  arm,  then  turning  to  Don,  said :  "  You 
go  in  and  attend  to  Robert  while  I  go  down  and 
send  over  for  Judge  Gray.  He'll  straighten  this 
tangle  out  in  a  trice !  And  I'll  settle  Lunt's  score 
at  the  same  time."  The  last  sentence  was  mut- 
tered under  his  breath  as  he  led  Ruth  towards  the 
stairs. 

Although  he  knew  the  end  of  his  difficulties  had 
not  yet  been  reached,  Don  walked  into  Robert's 


588      THE  SINS  OF  THE  FATHERS 

chamber  with  a  lighter  heart  than  he  had  had  for 
many  a  day.  For  several  months  past  thoughts 
of  the  future  had  forced  themselves  unpleasantly 
on  his  mind;  and  he  often  found  himself  wonder- 
ing what  the  end  would  be.  His  unconscious  re- 
mark to  Ruth  last  Friday  morning  was  but  the 
echo  of  the  voice  in  his  soul.  He  knew  the  end 
must  come  sooner  or  later;  but  what  would  it 
bring  to  him?  The  casual  remark  of  Mr.  Lunt 
on  Friday  night  had  caused  him  considerable  un- 
easiness as  to  the  security  of  his  standing  in  the 
village,  and  he  had  secretly  cursed  himself  many 
times  for  courting  publicity  in  so  ill-advised  a 
manner. 

Having  been  thus  placed  upon  his  guard,  he  had 
parried  every  question  of  Mr.  Lunt  with  the  con- 
summate skill  of  a  born  diplomat.  At  the  same 
time  he  had  no  idea  of  Mr.  Lunt's  real  object; 
neither  had  he  the  least  suspicion  of  the  terrible 
charge  hanging  over  his  head  until  Bell  had  in- 
formed him.  Even  then  he  did  not  treat  it  seri- 
ously. 

In  the  beginning  he  had  fallen  in  with  the  sug- 
gestion of  Dr.  St.  John  that  his  name  was  Arthur 
Craig  for  two  reasons :  first,  because  he  was  so 
racked  with  bodily  pain  that  he  cared  little  what 
he  was  called ;  and  secondly,  because  he  did  not 
want  his  brother  Norman  to  hear  of  his  injuries, 
which  might  be  the  case  should  his  name  become 
known.  Afterwards,  during  his  convalescence,  he 
grew  to  like  the  sound  of  the  name,  especially  so 


RUTH'S  RETURN  539 

when  the  title  of  "  Dr."  was  attached  to  it.  He 
had  a  faint  recollection  that  somewhere  on  his 
family  tree  there  was  an  Arthur  Craig,  M.D.,  in 
whose  honor  he  had  been  named.  So  that  by  drop- 
ping the  first  and  last  part  of  his  name,  he  had 
merely  discarded  a  portion  of  his  old  personality. 

All  he  thought  of,  all  he  cared  for,  all  he  played 
for,  was  to  conceal  his  identity  that  he  might  be 
free  to  live  out  his  new  life  in  his  own  way.  He 
had,  as  it  were,  shuffled  off  an  old  and  very  dis- 
agreeable existence  as  a  serpent  sloughs  his  skin, 
and  had  been  rehabilitated  with  a  new  spirit,  the 
spirit  of  his  kindred.  His  soul  had  been  re-incar- 
nated with  new  ideals  of  life,  with  its  multiple  re- 
sponsibilities, its  loves  and  joys.  He  felt  that  he 
had  come  out  of  the  shadow  of  evil  into  the  sun- 
shine of  good;  and  he  had  no  desire  to  hear,  to 
see,  or  to  feel  aught  that  pertained  to  his  old  self. 

Though  he  had  often  wondered  at  the  doctor's 
thinking  it  necessary  to  blot  out  his  identity,  he 
never  questioned  the  why  or  the  wherefore.  The 
old  doctor  seemed  to  have  gained  such  a  complete 
mastery  over  his  mind  as  to  preclude  all  questions 
relating  to  matters  which  seemed  to  have  been 
tabooed  by  common  consent  from  the  very  begin- 
ning of  their  acquaintance. 

And  now  he  understood  it  all.  The  doctor  had 
thought  him  a  murderer;  and  for  the  sake  of  the 
love  of  a  dead  past,  a  love  he  had  never  forgotten, 
the  old  man  was  ready  to  override  the  law  to  save 
the  son  of  her  whom  he  had  loved.  A  smile 


540      THE  SINS  OF  THE  FATHERS 

wreathed  his  lips  as  he  entered  the  room  and  ap- 
proached Robert's  bed. 

Robert  lay  with  eyes  open,  staring  at  the  ceil- 
ing. There  was  a  look  of  inexpressible  happiness 
in  the  half-dreamy  expression  on  his  face.  This 
instantly  changed  to  one  of  pain  and  anxiety  as 
he  withdrew  his  gaze  from  the  ceiling  and  met 
the  smiling  face  of  Don. 

"  Good  morning,  old  boy !  "  said  Don  cheerfully, 
approaching  the  bed  and  laying  his  fingers  on 
Robert's  pulse.  "  You  look  a  hundred  per  cent 
better  than  you  did  an  hour  ago.  Why,  you  are 
as  cool  as  a  cucumber.  I  tell  you,  Dr.  St.  John 
is  a  wonderful  old  fellow  for  getting  at  the  root 
of  certain  maladies,"  he  went  on  in  a  bantering 
tone  while  he  examined  the  bandages  and  applied 
a  cooling  lotion  to  the  wounds. 

Robert  watched  him  steadily  with  a  longing, 
wistful  look  in  his  eyes. 

"  What  time  is  it?  "  he  asked  at  last. 

Don  drew  out  his  watch,  and  glancing  at  it, 
answered  calmly, 

"  Twenty  minutes  past  seven." 

A  low  groan  escaped  his  lips.  He  closed  his 
eyes  and  pressed  Don's  hands  convulsively. 

Surmising  the  trend  of  his  thoughts,  Don  has- 
tened to  say, 

"  Come,  cheer  up,  old  boy ;  everything  is  coming 
out  right  side  up !  To  begin  with,  I  am  not  the 
man  Lunt  thinks  I  am.  There  has  been  some  sort 
of  mix-up,  in  which  I  was  thought  to  have  been 


RUTH'S  RETURN  541 

murdered  and  my  brother  Norman  to  have  been 
the  murderer.  I  knew  nothing  of  this  murder 
story  until  yesterday,  for  you  know  my  condition 
was  such  for  months  after  the  accident  as  to  pre- 
clude newspapers,  and  in  fact  reading  of  any  de- 
scription. It  appears  that  detectives  have  been 
looking  for  my  brother  for  nearly  two  years ;  and 
my  brother  has  been  hunting  for  me.  I  recited  a 
favorite  piece  of  my  brother's  last  Friday  night, 
and  Mr.  Lunt,  who  knew  my  brother  at  college, 
mistook  me  for  him  and  thought  he  was  about  to 
make  a  big  scoop.  Now  Miss  Bent  comes  on  the 
scene  direct  from  my  former  home  and  tells  us 
that  she  saw  my  brother  only  last  night ;  and  she 
and  the  doctor  have  gone  down  to  telegraph  to 
him  to  come  on  and  straighten  out  this  tangle." 

"  But  the  body  that  was  found  in  the  lake?  " 
questioned  Robert,  eager  to  learn  all  the  facts. 

"  Was  evidently  not  mine  or  his,"  replied  Don 
evasively. 

Robert  looked  at  him  sharply,  apparently  not 
satisfied  with  the  explanation. 

"  I  suppose  that  is  the  ugliest  part  of  the  whole 
affair,"  he  resumed  after  a  short  pause.  "  You 
understand,  I  had  been  no  saint.  I  had  been  given 
every  advantage  that  my  brother  had  been  given, 
but  somehow  the  devil  was  in  me  and  I  couldn't, 
or  wouldn't,  make  good.  I  was  expelled  from  col- 
lege just  before  commencement.  I  know  I  tried 
my  father's  patience  to  the  limit ;  and  there  are 
many  things  I  wish  I  could  forget.  At  last  I 


548      THE  SINS  OF  THE  FATHERS 

found  myself  out  on  the  world  penniless.  I  had 
never  worked  and  did  not  know  how  to  earn  an 
honest  penny.  I  had  been  a  medical  student,  and 
learning  that  one  of  my  classmates  had  been  ap- 
pointed to  a  professorship  in  a  distant  medical 
college,  I  applied  to  him  for  assistance  in  my  ex- 
tremity. He  advised  me  to  come  on  and  work  for 
my  diploma.  I  did  so,  and  won  my  M.D.  But  I 
could  not  settle  down  to  practice.  The  idle-lust 
was  in  my  veins.  Meantime,  my  father  had  died 
and  I  had  run  through  the  last  dollar  of  my  patri- 
mony. About  this  time  I  met  my  old  friend,  the 
college  professor,  who  made  a  proposition  to  me 
whereby  I  could  make  a  little  money.  I  was  to  go 
down  to  L.,  my  native  town,  and  meet  a  couple  of 
fellows  by  the  name  of  Smith  and  Jones,  who 
would  give  me  a  parcel  which  I  was  to  bring  on  to 
the  college.  While  I  had  my  suspicion  what  the 
parcel  would  contain,  I  asked  no  questions. 

"  I  went  on  and  met  the  men  and  got  the  pack- 
age all  right.  We  met  in  the  cemetery  within  the 
shadow  of  my  old  home,  and  I  was  given  a  por- 
tion of  the  body  of  a  young  fellow  who  had  died 
of  some  peculiar  disease  which  had  baffled  the  med- 
ical skill  of  a  score  of  doctors.  The  men  left  me 
with  my  package.  They  were  to  take  one  route 
and  I  another  back  to  the  college. 

"  After  they  left  me,  a  qualm  of  homesickness 
overcame  my  discretion,  and  instead  of  following 
the  directions  given,  I  went  home.  What  hap- 
pened after  that  comes  to  me  rather  vaguely. 


RUTH'S  RETURN  543 

Sandy  let  me  stay  all  night  and  hid  me  in  the  loft. 
But  it  was  so  cold  I  couldn't  sleep.  About  mid- 
night, thinking  Norman  had  gone  to  bed,  I  made 
my  way  to  the  library  where  I  hoped  to  find  in 
one  of  the  secret  drawers  a  ring  which  had  been 
a  legacy  to  me  from  my  mother.  I  had  just  found 
the  ring  and  placed  it  on  my  finger  when  the  door 
opened  softly  and  in  walked  Norman.  We  had 
some  words,  and  goaded  by  something  he  said,  I 
drew  a  revolver;  but  before  I  could  raise  it,  he 
grappled  me,  and  in  the  scuffle  the  weapon  went 
off.  The  ball  glanced  downward  and  through  the 
calf  of  my  leg.  The  revolver  fell  from  my  hand 
and  he  kicked  it  aside.  Then  shaking  myself  loose 
from  his  grasp,  I  backed  into  the  loft  and  slunk 
into  the  darkness.  I  heard  him  close  and  lock 
the  door  after  me ;  and  then  I  knew  I  was  safe  for 
the  rest  of  the  night. 

"  I  groped  my  way  over  to  the  trundle-bed  and 
sitting  down  tied  my  handkerchief  about  my 
wound,  which  was  a  mere  scratch;  and  then  I 
lay  down  and  was  soon  fast  asleep.  When  I 
awoke  dawn  was  breaking.  I  rose,  and  seeing 
that  my  pants  were  stained  with  blood,  I  ex- 
changed them  for  a  pair  of  Norman's  which  I  found 
in  the  dresser.  After  making  myself  presentable 
I  went  downstairs  and  passed  out  by  the  side 
door.  The  snow  lay  about  a  foot  deep.  I  remem- 
ber kicking  my  way  through  it  to  the  cemetery 
gate  where  I  had  left  my  bundle  the  night  before. 
In  the  gray  of  the  dawn,  the  snow  lent  sufficient 


544.      THE  SINS  OF  THE  FATHERS 

light  for  me  to  discern  every  object  on  the  old 
place ;  and  a  queer  feeling  came  over  me.  I  could 
see  my  wound  was  bleeding,  but  I  could  not  stop 
in  the  snow  to  bind  it. 

"  I  found  the  bundle,  and  to  make  it  firmer, 
wrapped  it  up  in  an  old  shawl  which  I  had  taken 
from  a  peg  on  the  kitchen  wall  as  I  passed  out. 
After  doing  this,  I  took  up  my  gruesome  burden 
and  started  on  my  journey.  It  was  just  coming 
daylight  when  I  emerged  from  the  cemetery  on  the 
lake  front.  Then  something  came  over  me  —  I 
can  not  tell  what  —  but  a  revulsion  of  feelings 
sent  the  cold  shivers  over  me ;  and  before  I  knew 
what  I  was  about,  I  had  crossed  over  the  ice  to  a 
pickerel  hole  and  dashed  the  hateful  thing  into 
the  lake. 

"  I  stopped  long  enough  to  bind  up  my  wound 
and  then  made  my  way  to  the  depot,  reaching 
there  in  time  to  board  an  outgoing  train ;  and 
landed  here  in  the  evening  of  the  same  day.  You 
know  the  rest  of  my  history." 

While  Don  was  telling  his  story  to  Robert  up- 
stairs, Dr.  St.  John  and  Ruth  were  busy  below 
sending  off  messengers.  While  the  doctor  dis- 
patched a  messenger  for  Judge  Gray  to  come  over 
immediately  Ruth  indited  telegrams  to  Lida 
Crosby  and  to  her  father.  Having  sent  her  mes- 
sages, Ruth  was  caught  in  the  arms  of  Bell  and 
led  silently  off.  Ruth  felt  the  quiver  of  Bell's 
arms  about  her  as  they  mounted  the  stairs  and 


RUTH'S  RETURN  545 

knew  that  silence  meant  more  than  volumes   of 
words  from  her  impetuous  friend. 

When  half-way  up  the  stairs,  Bell  started, 
stopped  suddenly,  and  caught  her  breath ;  for  the 
old  brass  knocker,  which  had  maintained  a  solemn 
silence  for  a  generation  or  more  in  the  interest  of 
science,  and  which  had  long  been  viewed  as  an  ob- 
ject ornamental  rather  than  useful,  had  been  sud- 
denly roused  to  life  by  no  gentle  hand.  The 
clang  vibrated  through  the  house  with  a  super- 
natural resonance  that  brought  the  butler  to  the 
door  in  double-quick  time;  and  close  at  his  heels 
followed  Mr.  Lunt.  Still  clinging  to  Ruth,  Bell 
peered  over  the  balustrade  and  saw  the  butler 
open  the  door  and  admit  two  strange  men.  As 
they  entered,  Mr.  Lunt  stepped  forward  and  wel- 
comed them ;  and  almost  at  the  same  moment,  Dr. 
St.  John  drew  aside  the  draperies  of  the  arch  lead- 
ing into  the  reception  room  and  said  in  those 
short,  crisp  tones  used  habitually  by  him  when 
laboring  under  any  undue  excitement, 
"  This  way,  gentlemen ;  this  way !  " 
In  obedience  to  the  command,  the  butler  bowed 
them  forward,  and  the  four  men  disappeared  be- 
hind the  crimson  portieres.  Instinctively  Bell 
knew  their  errand  and  stood  debating  in  her  mind 
whether  it  were  better  to  go  up  to  her  room  or  to 
return  to  the  hall  below,  when  the  old  doctor 
emerged  from  behind  the  hangings  and  ap- 
proached the  stairs.  He  was  about  to  ascend 


546      THE  SINS  OF  THE  FATHERS 

when,  glancing  upwards,  his  eyes  encountered  the 
two  young  ladies.  He  paused  and  beckoned  them 
to  come  down. 

Bell  was  only  too  glad  to  obey  the  summons. 
Hastily  they  returned  to  the  hall.  Bell  felt  like 
a  culprit  as  she  reached  the  foot  of  the  stairs 
where  the  old  doctor  stood  waiting,  and  hardly 
dared  to  look  him  in  the  face.  Somehow,  she  felt 
responsible  for  the  arrest  of  Dr.  Craig.  Look  at 
it  from  whatever  point  she  would,  she  could  only 
condemn  herself;  and  this  she  did  unmercifully. 
She  had  passed  a  miserable  night;  and  the  effects 
of  it  were  visible  in  her  face.  But  the  doctor  did 
not  seem  to  notice  her.  It  was  to  Ruth  he  spoke. 

"  Miss  Ruth,"  he  said  in  an  undertone,  taking 
her  by  the  hand,  "  I  know  you  are  tired,  but  I 
want  you  to  be  on  hand  when  Judge  Gray  arrives. 
Go  into  the  sitting-room  and  lie  down  on  the  couch 
till  I  call  you."  Saying  which,  he  turned  away 
and  mounted  the  stairs  in  a  most  leisurely  man- 
ner. 

Bell  felt  hurt,  but  she  steeled  herself  against 
showing  it,  and  moved  towards  the  sitting-room 
door  with  a  heavy  heart.  It  was  the  first  time  the 
old  doctor  had  slighted  her;  and  she  could  not 
help  feeling  that  this  was  a  retaliation  for  the  ar- 
rest of  his  favorite.  She  had  not  yet  heard 
Ruth's  story;  and  she  was,  therefore,  wholly  un- 
prepared for  what  was  coming. 

Ruth,  who  was  still  in  the  maze  of  the  mystery, 
allowed  herself  to  be  led  into  the  sitting-room  in  a 


RUTH'S  RETURN  547 

sort  of  passive  compliance  to  the  doctor's  com- 
mands. But  she  did  not  lie  down.  She  paced 
the  room  nervously  instead,  while  Bell  began  to 
give  her  version  of  the  dreadful  calamity  that  had 
fallen  on  Coleville. 

"  Hark !  "  exclaimed  Ruth,  stopping  short  in 
her  walk  and  bending  forward  in  a  listening  atti- 
tude. Faintly  through  the  open  window  came  a 
strain  of  "  Gentle  Annie "  from  the  rasping 
strings  of  an  old  fiddle.  She  flew  to  the  side  door 
and  flung  it  open,  and  was  down  the  steps  and 
half-way  across  the  lawn  ere  Bell  had  recovered 
from  her  surprise.  "  Why,  Jethro !  "  she  cried, 
coming  up  barely  in  time  to  prevent  the  hostler 
from  driving  the  quaint  little  figure  from  the 
grounds,  "  where  did  you  come  from?  " 

Jethro  jerked  his  head  on  one  side  and  grinned 
as  he  answered,  "  Same  place  es  you,  miss ;  cum  up 
on  the  same  train." 

"  You  may  go  back  to  the  stable,  Tom ;  I'll 
take  care  of  Jethro,"  she  said  to  the  hostler,  for 
she  knew  by  Jed's  manner  that  he  had  a  message 
for  her.  Tom  walked  off  with  a  reluctant  air. 
When  he  was  beyond  hearing,  Jed  said,  looking 
cautiously  about  to  see  that  they  were  alone, 

"  Lida  sent  me  down  here  to  see  that  Dr.  Craig 
you  spoke  of  last  night." 

"  Yes,  yes,  Jed,  I  have  found  out  that  he  is  Don 
Bixby.  I  have  sent  a  telegram  to  Miss  Crosby, 
telling  her  to  have  Norman  come  here  as  soon  as 
he  can,"  she  said  nervously. 


548      THE  SINS  OF  THE  FATHERS 

"Where  is  he?" 

"  He  is  in  the  house  at  the  bedside  of  Robert 
Cole.  I  am  expecting  an  answer  to  my  telegram 
any  minute  now." 

"  Norman  is  here  now.  Can  you  arrange  it  so 
that  he  can  see  Don?  " 

"  Yes ;  go  bring  him,  and  I  will  wait  for  you  at 
the  side  door,"  she  replied  in  joyful  tones. 

"  We'll  be  there  in  less'n  a  jiffy !  "  he  responded, 
turning  suddenly  and  ambling  off  in  the  direction 
of  the  avenue. 

Ruth  walked  slowly  back  to  the  house  and  was 
met  on  the  steps  by  Bell,  who  asked  in  a  petulant 
tone, 

"  For  pity's  sake,  Ruth,  who  was  that  queer 
looking  creature?  " 

"  Oh,  he  is  the  prime  character  in  the  town  of 
L.,"  she  replied  with  a  whimsical  look  in  her  eye. 
"  But  what  do  you  think  of  his  traveling  mate?  " 
she  asked  quickly  as  she  caught  sight  of  Jethro 
returning  in  company  with  a  long-whiskered,  gog- 
gled individual  in  a  long,  gray,  linen  duster. 
"  Don't  get  frightened,  Bell ;  they  are  both  harm- 
less, and  eminently  respectable.  I  have  invited 
them  to  come  into  the  house.  I  want  them  to  meet 
Dr.  Craig." 

By  this  time  the  two  had  reached  the  steps ;  and 
Ruth  beckoned  them  to  follow  her.  She  led  them 
into  the  sitting-room,  and  placing  a  couple  of 
chairs  near  the  door,  bade  them  sit  there  until  she 
gave  them  the  signal. 


CHAPTER  XXXII 
THE  DENOUNCEMENT 

Meantime  Dr.  St.  John  had  reached  Robert's 
room,  entering  just  as  Don  had  finished  his  talc. 
Don  looked  up  and  remarked  with  a  smile, 

"  Doctor,  your  prescription  has  worked  mira- 
cles. After  only  one  dose  I  find  your  patient  ma- 
terially improved.  Fever  gone,  pulse  normal,  and 
actually  asking  for  food." 

"  Yes,  yes,"  answered  the  doctor,  rubbing  his 
hands  gleefully  together,  "  my  prescriptions  have 
worked  more  than  one  miracle !  " 

"  They  have  come?  "  half  questioned,  half  as- 
serted Don,  rising. 

"  They  ?  Who  ?  "  queried  the  doctor,  pucker- 
ing up  his  brows  and  pretending  not  to  under- 
stand Don's  meaning. 

"  Why,  the  officers,  of  course,"  replied  Don 
without  the  least  hesitation.  "  We  heard  the 
knocking  and  concluded  it  must  be  they.  As 
Robert  has  been  the  confidant  of  Mr.  Lunt  since 
last  Saturday  morning,  there  is  no  necessity  for 
further  secrecy.  I  want  everything  open  and 
above  board  now." 

Seeing  how  matters  stood,  the  doctor  readily 
549 


550      THE  SINS  OF  THE  FATHERS 

admitted  that  their  conclusions  were  correct,  and 
then  went  on  and  explained  what  had  been  done. 
He  touched  a  bell  button,  and  presently  the  night 
nurse  responded  to  the  call.  Leaving  her  in 
charge  of  the  patient,  the  two  doctors  went  down- 
stairs to  the  reception-room  to  meet  the  sheriff 
and  Mr.  Lunt.  In  the  lower  hall  they  met  Judge 
Gray,  who  had  just  arrived  in  answer  to  the  doc- 
tor's summons.  The  old  doctor  paused  long 
enough  to  welcome  the  judge  and  to  beg  him  to 
wait  a  moment.  Then  he  passed  into  the  presence 
of  the  officers  and  delivered  up  the  prisoner. 

"  Now,"  he  said  in  a  tone  of  the  utmost  suavity, 
"  I  have  done  my  duty ;  but  before  you  lay  your 
hands  on  this  young  man  I  must  beg  your  indul- 
gence for  time  to  consult  counsel." 

"  Certainly,  Doctor,"  assented  the  sheriff ;  "  the 
young  man  shall  have  all  the  safeguards  the  law 
allows.  I  can  assure  you  we  have  no  desire  to 
make  this  affair  any  more  painful  to  you  than  is 
absolutely  necessary.  How  long  do  you  want  — 
half  an  hour,  say?  "  His  manner  and  tone  were 
respectful  in  the  extreme. 

"  That  will  more  than  suffice,"  he  replied  tersely, 
and  immediately  left  the  room. 

Twenty  minutes  later  he  returned,  leaning  on  the 
arm  of  Judge  Gray.  Behind  him  walked  sedately 
Mrs.  Cole  and  Mrs.  Bent,  Ruth  and  Bell,  while 
Frank  sauntered  in  somewhat  in  the  rear.  As  if 
from  sheer  force  of  habit,  the  sheriff  rose  to  his 
feet  when  the  judge  made  his  appearance  and  in 


a  deep,  resonant  voice  cried,  "  Court !  "  The  other 
three  men  responded  with  alacrity  and  rose  to 
their  feet  and  remained  standing  till  the  judge  had 
solemnly  taken  his  seat,  when  the  sheriff,  not  yet 
awake  to  the  absurdity  of  the  situation,  cried  in 
his  official  tone,  "  Court  open ;  be  seated ! " 
Whereupon  all  dropped  into  their  seats  with  all 
the  respect  and  dignity  due  an  open  court. 

Although  Judge  Gray  had  been  summoned  as 
counsel  rather  than  judge,  he  accepted  the  honor 
thrust  upon  him  with  a  stern  and  solemn  mien,  as 
one  born  to  the  robe ;  and  turning  to  the  old  doc- 
tor, he  said  in  a  grave  tone, 

"  Dr.  St.  John,  you  may  serve  as  counsel  for 
the  accused  during  my  court."  As  no  question  of 
jurisdiction  was  raised,  the  judge  proceeded  to  call 
for  the  charge. 

Clearing  his  throat  with  a  gentle  cough,  the 
sheriff  unfolded  a  formidable  looking  document 
and  began  to  read  in  a  loud,  pompous  voice, 
mumbling  his  words  in  a  manner  peculiar  to  many 
court  officials.  He  got  through  the  opening  for- 
mula and  as  far  as  pronouncing  the  name  of  the 
accused, 

"  Norman  Bixby,  alias  Arthur  Craig  — " 

"  Just  one  moment,"  interposed  the  judge, 
"  what  name  did  you  say  ?  " 

"  Norman  Bixby,  alias  Arthur  Craig,"  repeated 
the  sheriff. 

"  Your  Honor,"  said  Dr.  St.  John,  rising  and 
addressing  the  judge,  "  would  it  not  facilitate  mat- 


552      THE  SINS  OF  THE  FATHERS 

ters   to  allow  the  young  man  to  speak  for  him- 
self? " 

"  Perhaps  it  would,"  replied  the  judge,  nodding 
his  assent. 

Don  rose  to  his  feet  and  looked  helplessly  at  the 
doctor,  seemingly  at  a  loss  how  to  begin. 

"  What  is  your  name?  "  questioned  the  old  doc- 
tor, taking  in  Don's  embarrassment  at  a  glance. 

"  John  Arthur  Craig  Bixby,"  he  answered 
promptly,  "  though  the  name  was  abbreviated  to 
Don  Bixby  by  my  family,  for  convenience,  I  sup- 
pose." 

"  You  have  a  brother?  " 

"  I  have ;  a  twin  brother." 

"His  name?" 

"  Norman  Bixby." 

"  Is  he  living?  " 

"  For  anything  I  know,  he  is  living.  In  fact,  I 
understand  he  is  on  his  way  here  and  will  probably 
arrive  this  evening." 

The  sheriff  looked  non-plussed,  first  at  Mr. 
Lunt,  then  at  the  other  officer,  who  had  been 
quietly  eying  Don  ever  since  he  came  into  the 
room.  The  latter  rose  slowly,  and  facing  Don, 
said  in  rather  dubious  tones, 

"  You  say  you  are  Don  Bixby ;  do  you  recog- 
nize me?  " 

"  I  do,"  answered  Don  with  a  shadow  of  disgust 
on  his  face  and  in  his  voice.  "  You  are  Ted 
Hunter  who  bit  me  on  the  arm  when  you  couldn't 
get  the  best  of  me  in  a  wrestling  match  on  the 


THE  DENOUNCEMENT  553 

green  in  L.  Look,  there  is  the  mark  of  your 
teeth ! "  And  rolling  up  his  sleeve,  he  exhibited 
an  ugly  scar  on  his  left  fore-arm. 

Mr.  Hunter  turned  a  bright  crimson  as  he  recog- 
nized the  scar,  red,  ragged,  and  ugly,  on  the  white 
arm  of  the  accused.  For  a  moment  there  was  a 
dead  silence.  Then  turning  to  the  judge,  Mr. 
Hunter  said  in  rather  a  sheepish  tone, 

"  He  is  Don  Bixby  all  right,  your  Honor." 

Don  glanced  at  Mr.  Lunt  and  really  pitied  the 
man,  for  he  sat  in  dumb  amazement,  looking  from 
one  to  the  other,  as  if  trying  to  get  a  mental  grasp 
on  the  shift  of  personalities. 

"  That  settles  it !  "  exclaimed  Dr.  St.  John  with 
an  angry  snort,  forgetting  for  the  moment  the 
dignity  of  the  court.  "  It's  a  case  of  false  arrest 
for  which  somebody  must  answer ! "  And  he 
rolled  a  pair  of  blazing  eyes  menacingly  in  the 
direction  of  Mr.  Lunt. 

"  Not  so  fast ! "  interposed  Mr.  Lunt,  recover- 
ing his  presence  of  mind  with  a  jerk.  "  If  he  is 
Don  Bixby,  as  he  claims  to  be,  where  is  his 
brother?  " 

"  He  has  already  explained  that  his  brother  is 
on  his  way  here,"  answered  the  judge  sternly. 

"  Then  perhaps  he  can  explain  whose  body  it 
was  that  was  found  tied  up  in  his  coat  in  the 
lake?  "  sneeringly  queried  Mr.  Lunt. 

"  I  can,  Your  Honor,"  replied  Don  with  the  ut- 
most frankness.  "  It  was  a  portion  of  the  body 
of  Carl  White,  who  had  died  of  a  baffling  disease, 


554      THE  SINS  OF  THE  FATHERS 

and  whose  body  had  been  deposited  in  the  tomb 
that  day.  Probably  you  recall  his  death  ?  "  he 
questioned,  addressing  Mr.  Hunter. 

"  I  do,"  admitted  Mr.  Hunter.  "  I  was  one  of 
the  bearers  at  his  funeral." 

"  You  remember  the  physicians  were  all  at  sea 
over  his  malady?  "  interrogated  Don. 

Mr.  Hunter  nodded  his  head  by  way  of  admis- 
sion. 

"  Well,  a  certain  doctor  wanted  the  body  for 
scientific  purposes ;  and  as  I  understood  at  the 
time,  he  had  the  consent  of  White's  uncle  to  get 
the  body  from  the  tomb."  Then  he  went  on  to 
explain  his  part  in  the  transaction,  and  how  he 
came  to  drop  his  bundle  in  the  lake.  He  repeated 
the  story  practically  as  he  had  told  it  to  Robert 
only  a  short  time  before.  When  he  finished,  a 
painful  silence  pervaded  the  room  for  several  min- 
utes, a  silence  which  no  one  seemed  inclined  to 
break. 

At  length  the  judge  spoke  in  tones  that  seemed 
to  thrill  with  emotion : 

"  I  believe  the  prisoner's  story ;  but  in  order  to 
satisfy  Mr.  Lunt  and  his  brother  officers,  I  will 
ask  Miss  Bent  to  tell  us  what  she  knows  about  this 
young  man's  brother." 

Ruth  rose,  trembling  in  every  limb.  Seeing  her 
agitation,  the  judge  hastened  to  her  relief. 

"  Miss  Bent,  I  understand  that  you  saw  Nor- 
man Bixby  last  night?  " 


THE  DENOUNCEMENT  555 

"  I  did,"  answered  Ruth  in  rather  unsteady 
tones. 

"  Will  you  kindly  tell  us  where  and  under  what 
circumstances  you  saw  him?"  asked  the  judge, 
leaning  eagerly  forward,  as  if  to  catch  her  every 
word. 

"  I  think,  your  Honor,  I  will  let  Mr.  Bixby 
answer  for  me."  And  drawing  aside  the  curtain, 
against  which  she  had  been  sitting,  Norman  Bixby, 
divested  of  goggles,  wig,  and  whiskers,  stepped  into 
the  midst  of  the  astonished  assemblage,  the  living 
counterpart  of  Dr.  Craig. 

Don  sprang  to  his  feet  and  stood  before  his 
brother  in  the  old  antagonistic  poise,  while  Nor- 
man maintained  a  calm,  dignified  composure.  A 
moment  of  intense  silence;  then  Don  cowered  be- 
fore the  cold,  accusing  eye  of  his  outraged  brother. 

"  The  prisoner  is  discharged  and  the  court 
stands  adjourned,"  broke  in  Judge  Gray  in  quav- 
ering tones,  rising  and  stepping  in  between  the  two 
brothers.  "  Come,  Norman,  don't  be  too  severe 
now  that  this  disagreeable  affair  has  terminated  so 
propitiously.  I  am  Lida's  uncle,  Judge  Gray; 
and  I  am  most  happy  to  welcome  you  to  Coleville. 
You  must  come  home  with  me  and  meet  Mrs. 
Gray."  And  he  held  out  his  hand  to  Norman. 

Norman  grasped  the  hand,  but  his  tongue  re- 
fused to  utter  the  words  he  wished  to  speak.  Just 
at  that  moment,  the  lively  strains  of  "  Old  Dan 
Tucker  "  floated  into  the  room  and  brought  the 


r>r>6      THE  SINS  OF  THE  FATHERS 

attention  of  all  eyes  to  bear  on  the  quaint  figure 
of  Jethro  Prowty,  standing  under  the  arch,  and 
playing  as  if  possessed  by  some  spirit  of  music 
incarnate. 

This  seemed  to  relieve  the  tension,  for  every- 
body laughed,  and  by  the  time  Norman  had  silenced 
the  old  fiddle  the  officious  Mr.  Lunt  and  his  friends 
had  disappeared,  leaving  the  judge  and  the  old 
doctor  to  make  peace  between  the  brothers  and 
explanations  to  all  interested  in  their  strange 
story. 

"  Mrs.  Cole,*'  said  Judge  Gray  after  introduc- 
ing Norman  to  her,  "  I  think  an  explanation  is  due 
you.  My  niece,  Lida  Crosby,  of  whom  you  were 
so  fond  at  one  time,  is  the  fiancee  of  this  young 
gentleman.  She  was  preparing  for  her  wedding  at 
the  time  he  was  accused  of  killing  his  brother,  and 
the  accusation  almost  cost  her  her  life.  She  had 
always  maintained  his  innocence  and  would  listen 
to  no  one  who  doubted.  If  any  woman  ever  was 
loyal  to  a  man  in  adversity,  that  woman  is  Lida ; 
and  for  her  sake  I  thank  God  the  quest  is  over." 
Then  turning  to  Don,  he  continued :  "  And  to 
think  that  you  were  living  right  under  my  eyes  all 
the  time;  dining  at  my  table;  riding  in  my  car- 
riage ;  and  hobnobbing  with  me  generally,  and  I  in 
blissful  ignorance  of  your  identity  !  Why,  I  —  I 
—  I'd  like  to  sentence  you  to  ten  years  at  hard 
labor  for  your  pulling  the  wool  over  my  eyes  so 
smoothly ! " 


THE  DENOUNCEMENT  557 

"  And  I  deserve  it,  Judge ! "  answered  Don 
gravely. 

It  was  a  delicate  piece  of  diplomacy  to  bring 
order  out  of  such  chaos ;  but  Judge  Gray  and  the 
old  doctor  worked  together  admirably ;  and  in  less 
than  an  hour  the  shadows  had  lifted  from  the  faces 
of  all.  This  end  having  been  accomplished,  Judge 
Gray  insisted  on  Norman's  going  home  with  him. 
He  must  meet  Mrs.  Gray,  and  remain  a  few  days 
at  least.  Norman  was  more  willing  to  accede  to 
the  judge's  wishes  when  a  telegram  came  announc- 
ing that  Lida  would  arrive  in  Coleville  on  the  even- 
ing train.  When  Norman  departed  with  Judge 
Gray,  Don  walked  out  to  the  carriage  with  him ; 
and  the  brothers  clasped  hands  ere  they  separated. 

Late  in  the  afternoon,  for  the  first  time  since 
the  shooting,  Mark  Gibson  was  allowed  a  short  in- 
terview with  Robert.  He  had  not  been  idle  during 
the  last  two  days ;  and  he  had  much  to  tell  of  the 
way  things  had  gone.  Robert,  as  we  know,  had 
already  heard  of  Dick's  death  and  of  his  confes- 
sion ;  but  he  had  not  heard  of  Nell's  death. 

When  Mark  told  him  of  it,  and  of  her  sacrifice, 
and  delivered  her  dying  message  to  him,  Robert 
was  deeply  affected. 

"  It  shall  be  as  she  wished ;  the  chapter  is  closed ; 
and  may  God  pity  them  both !  "  he  said  softly. 
Then  he  thanked  Mark  for  his  loyalty  to  her  and 
to  his  father's  memory. 

"  Everything  is  quiet  about  the  town,"  Mark 


558      THE  SINS  OF  THE  FATHERS 

informed  him.  "  The  tragedy  had  a  sobering  ef- 
fect on  the  men.  They're  as  humble  as  pie  now, 
and  profuse  in  their  expressions  of  regret  at  what 
had  occurred.  They  can  see  the  folly  of  their  way 
at  last,  and  are  very  anxious  to  return  to  work." 

"  Then  open  the  gates  to-morrow  morning  and 
start  them  in ;  and  I'll  be  down  in  the  course  of  a 
week  or  ten  days,"  instructed  Robert,  well  pleased 
at  the  prospect  of  an  early  settlement. 

Mark  obeyed  orders ;  and  next  morning  the 
works  were  in  full  blast  on  schedule  time;  and  by 
Saturday  night,  the  village  had  taken  on  a  look 
of  its  wonted  prosperity. 

Robert  was  as  good  as  his  word.  He  recovered 
rapidly  under  the  combined  sunshine  of  Ruth's 
presence  and  the  skill  and  care  of  his  two  physician 
friends.  At  the  end  of  ten  days  he  made  his  ap- 
pearance at  the  office,  as  he  told  Mark  he  should. 
In  a  quiet  and  respectful  manner  the  men  ex- 
pressed their  pleasure  at  seeing  him  once  more. 
Neither  side  mentioned  the  strike,  for  each  had 
much  to  regret;  and  each  sincerely  wished  to  for- 
get some  features  of  the  unequal  struggle.  One 
thing  was  certain,  that  while  there  were  regrets, 
there  was  no  rankling  bitterness  left  in  its  trail. 
The  death  of  Dick  having  removed  the  main  point 
of  difference  between  employer  and  employee,  the 
remains  of  the  imaginary  mountain  of  ills  con- 
jured by  Dick's  sick  brain  dwindled  to  a  mere  bag- 
o'-tricks  under  the  skillful  manipulations  of  Mark 
Gibson.  So  that  when  Robert  was  able  to  resume 


THE  DENOUNCEMENT  559 

his  duties  at  the  office,  nothing  remained  but  to  let 
"  by-gones  be  by-gones  "  and  to  take  a  new  hold 
of  life  in  the  joys  and  contentments  of  the  present 
and  keep  an  optimistic  outlook  on  the  future. 
And  this  all  hands  seemed  ready  and  willing  to  do. 

The  last  week  in  October  was  a  week  of  rejoicing 
in  Coleville,  and  brought  many  changes  to  our  lit- 
tle group  of  friends,  whose  hearts  had  been  tried 
by  pain  and  sorrow  and  had  stood  the  test.  Oak- 
wood  was  the  scene  of  a  most  brilliant  assemblage, 
gathered  to  witness  the  novel  sight  of  a  triple  wed- 
ding, at  which  the  Rev.  Frank  Bent  was  to  per- 
form his  first  public  function  as  a  minister  of  the 
gospel,  in  which  he  was  to  be  assisted  by  the  Rev. 
Mr.  Hall  as  resident  pastor. 

The  day  of  the  wedding  was  ushered  in  with  a 
glorious  burst  of  sunshine  which  added  greatly  to 
the  good  spirits  of  all. 

Dr.  St.  John  bustled  about,  serene  and  happy, 
and  with  as  much  officiousness  as  if  he  himself  were 
to  be  one  of  the  fortunate  bridegrooms.  He 
patted  Bell  on  the  cheek  as  she  stood  before  him  in 
her  bridal  array,  and  assured  her  she  would  never 
regret  the  step  she  was  taking.  And  indeed  she 
had  no  fears  in  her  heart  when  she  placed  her  hand 
in  Don  Bixby's  and  gave  her  word  to  love,  honor 
and  obey.  She  had  perfect  faith  in  his  reincarna- 
tion and  in  her  own  powers  to  hold  him  steadfast 
to  his  new  ideals.  The  old  doctor,  feeling  the 
weight  of  his  three  score  years  and  ten,  had  ar- 


560      THE  SINS  OF  THE  FATHERS 

ranged  to  turn  over  his  lucrative  practice  to  Don 
just  as  soon  as  the  happy  couple  returned  from 
their  wedding  trip. 

Jethro  Prowty  was  speechless  with  happiness 
when,  in  a  spick-span  new  suit  of  broadcloth,  he 
stood  up  beside  Norman  in  the  capacity  of  best 
man.  But  the  height  of  his  earthly  bliss  was  at- 
tained when  he  was  allowed  to  play  a  selection  on 
his  old  cracked  fiddle  for  the  entertainment  of  the 
guests  while  the  orchestra  were  at  breakfast. 

The  wedding  feast  was  over  at  last;  and  Nor- 
man and  Lida,  with  Don  and  Bell,  had  taken  their 
departure  amid  the  proverbial  shower  of  rose 
leaves,  confetti  and  rice.  They  were  to  travel  to- 
gether as  far  as  Boston,  where  they  were  to  sep- 
arate; whence  Don  and  Bell  were  to  sail  for 
Europe,  while  Norman  and  Lida  were  to  take  the 
train  for  L.,  where  they  had  planned  to  spend 
their  honeymoon  quietly  at  the  old  homestead. 

Mr.  Bent  had  vacated  the  place ;  and  Sandy  and 
Jean  had  been  installed  in  their  former  strongholds 
and  now  reigned  as  of  old.  Things  were  begin- 
ning to  look  pretty  much  as  they  used  to  look 
about  the  place.  Jean  went  about  trolling  her 
favorite  Scotch  ditties,  happy  in  the  consumma- 
tion of  her  dearest  wish.  She  could  hardly  con- 
tain herself  while  waiting  the  arrival  of  "  Mesther 
Norman  and  his  bonnie  bride."  All  the  suffering 
endured  by  her  and  her  devoted  husband  while  Nor- 
man was  on  his  quest  was  forgotten  in  the  antici- 


THE  DENOUNCEMENT  561 

pation  of  the  joys  in  the  coming  home  of  her 
"  bairns." 

The  last  guest  had  departed  from  Oakwood  and 
the  stillness  of  a  new  life  had  settled  over  the 
mansion.  Robert  and  Ruth  stood  alone  on  the 
front  veranda,  where  they  had  just  bidden 
Grandma  Bent  and  Frank  good-by,  and  were  now 
watching  the  carriage  sweep  round  the  curves 
along  the  winding  avenue.  They  were  to  remain 
at  home,  for  Robert's  wounds  were  not  yet  entirely 
healed,  and  the  doctor  had  set  his  foot  down 
against  any  undue  exertion,  such  as  a  wedding 
journey  would  entail.  Ruth  still  wore  her  bridal 
robes,  in  which  Robert  compared  her  to  a  fleecy 
cloud  in  a  summer  sky. 

As  the  carriage  disappeared  round  the  last 
curve  and  plunged  into  the  twilight  shadows  of  the 
great  oaks,  Robert  called  Ruth's  attention  to  the 
sun  in  its  crimson  splendor  poised  just  above  the 
ridge  of  the  western  hills.  It  seemed  to  have 
paused  for  a  moment  in  its  downward  course,  as 
if  to  pronounce  a  parting  blessing  on  the  village 
below.  The  valley  was  aflame  with  crimson  light. 
It  flooded  the  village  streets  and  reflected  on  every 
pane  of  glass  in  factory  and  dwelling,  and  shed  a 
soft  radiance  over  the  people  themselves,  who  could 
be  seen  in  their  gala  attire  flocking  to  the  library 
hall  to  participate  in  the  grand  ball  which  was  to 
close  the  wedding  festivities  of  the  day. 

"  It  is  good  omen,  dear,"  said  Robert  softly,  as 


562      THE  SINS  OF  THE  FATHERS 

his  arm  stole  about  her  waist  and  drew  her  gently 
to  him.  "  The  shadows  have  lifted,  and  light  and 
love  and  joy  are  shining  over  all!"  He  kissed 
her  tenderly.  Turning  his  eyes  once  more  to  the 
village,  he  exclaimed,  "  Look,  dear,  there  is  Mark, 
actually  going  to  the  ball !  You  must  dance  with 
him  to-night,  dear !  " 

"  Why,  Robert,  Mark  can't  dance ! "  laughed 
Ruth,  watching  the  ungainly  figure  in  its  rapid 
movements  across  the  square. 

"  Can't  dance !  "  cried  Robert  in  a  burst  of  boy- 
ish enthusiasm,  as  his  eyes  followed  the  swinging 
strides  of  his  old  friend,  with  which  Mrs.  Gibson 
was  doing  her  best  to  keep  up.  "  If  there  is  any- 
thing under  the  sun  that  Mark  Gibson  can't  do,  I 
want  to  know  it !  But  here  comes  the  carriage  and 
we  must  be  off." 

At  that  moment  Mrs.  Cole  appeared  in  the  door- 
way, and  behind  her  came  the  maid  with  Ruth's 
cloak.  Robert  took  the  wrap  from  the  maid  and 
folded  it  about  Ruth. 

Ten  minutes  later  Robert  Cole  and  his  bride 
were  holding  a  reception  in  the  hall  of  the  village 
library  amid  a  scene  of  beauty  never  before  seen  in 
Coleville. 

Mark  Gibson  was  there,  flitting  about  among 
the  people  and  looking  happier  than  Robert  had 
ever  before  seen  him.  He  seemed  to  have  grown 
twenty  years  younger  in  appearance;  and  when 
Robert  remarked  this  fact  to  him,  Mark  simply 


THE  DENOUNCEMENT  563 

said  in  his  quiet,  unobtrusive,  but  always-to-the- 
point  way : 

"  I  have  thrown  off  a  twenty  years'  burden,  and 
I  feel  like  a  new  man.  It  isn't  work  that  saps  the 
energy  out  of  the  body,  lad ;  it's  worry." 


DATE  DUE 


PS2044  H95S5    IP  14 
Hyde,   Mary  Ellen  Burke, 

J  854- 
Th  e  sins  of  the  fathers. 


3  1210002306783 


